Differences
by Lapis Love
Summary: Mergers and acquisitions can take place in corporate boardrooms and swanky convention centers, but what about cheap motels in Nowhere, Pennsylvania? Damon had the gift of gab but breaking through Bonnie's tough exterior would prove to be the deal of the century. That is, if he can get it accomplished.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi everyone. Doing it again. I know I have a butt load of other projects I should be updating instead of adding more to my plate, but I just couldn't help myself. The first part of this story I wrote maybe a week or so after the season finale but I didn't know what to do with it, and left it alone. So I went back, dusted it off, and here's what I came up with. I've broken this up into small "mini-scenes" instead of having it as one long chapter because I didn't want you guys to be reading forever. I'm not good at summing up my work, but this is mainly following the aftermath of Elena's transition, and Bonnie maybe possibly struggling with a dark magic addiction. Enjoy.  
**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Scene I**

Damon Salvatore didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life he had no idea how to proceed. He barely avoided being pummeled to death by Dark Alaric, got his proverbial heart ripped out by Elena confessing that she never "unfell" was that even a word? But she said she never fell out of love with Stefan. Those words she spoke in her bedroom that it would always be Stefan had been validated, and he figured now was the time to cut his losses. He could be a persistent bastard when he wanted to be, however, he had his pride, and his pride was telling him it was time to move on.

Besides he had wrecked enough lives, killed enough spirits since showing back up in his hometown. When would he learn that nothing good ever happened to him in Mystic Falls? This place was cursed, _he _was cursed and he and Stefan came to an agreement that the one Elena didn't choose would be the one to kick rocks out of town.

However, he'd have to put packing his bag on hold as he held up a wall in the morgue of the hospital, leather-clad arms folded over his chest, dark scowl on his face as he waited for Elena to wake up. He didn't spare Stefan a single look. Besides he couldn't stomach that burning man expression on his brother's face. And he was still smarting knowing that as soon as Elena woke up it would be_ Stefan's_ arms she'd jump into.

_Elena, a vampire, _Damon mused. This should be interesting to watch. The girl had the biggest martyr complex of everyone he knew. She might not want to go through with the transition, which he should be scouting some unsuspecting person for Elena to feed on, Damon reminded himself, he was deeply curious to see what her new and improved personality would be like now that she was one of them. Note the sarcasm.

Elena gasped sharply, her brown eyes snapped opened. Stefan stood to his feet to loom over her, but Damon didn't move a muscle. Listening to Elena's reasoning for why Stefan was it for her put several things in perspective for him. She claimed that if she had met him first things would have been different, but Damon didn't see how. Perhaps she forgot he was a manipulator, a master puppeteer who had used one of her best friends as a blood donor and sex slave, bit her other friend in an act of revenge, set up his brother's one true friend and subsequently murdered her to cover his own ass. And let's not forget snapping Jeremy's neck right in front of her. If those were the qualities she wanted in a boyfriend then why the hell had she chosen Stefan?

"Elena," Damon heard Stefan murmur quietly. And Elena began sprouting off a million questions and Stefan very painstakingly explained to her what happened.

Elena jolted up from the metal slab she was on, stared down at her hands expecting what? To see herself sparkle? Then those same hands came to her face and she pushed several fingers in her mouth probing for fangs no doubt. Hadn't she spent enough time with their kind to know that it would take a few hours for her fangs to burst out of her gums?

Then her head snapped to him. Damon didn't move a muscle, didn't offer a smile or a snarky comment about welcoming her back. He held her gaze and wondered what she thought of him now as she stared at his magnificence through vampire eyes.

"You didn't leave me," she whispered.

Okay? She was looking at him but were those words directed at him? Damon wasn't so sure so he kept mum.

However he saw his brother stiffen.

Elena swung one leg then the other off the slab and jumped down to the floor. She looked around her surroundings wondering why she was in the morgue and not in an actual hospital bed. He had wondered the same thing but well, this is where the EMT's rolled her dead body. The irony was not lost on Damon.

Stefan moved until he could be in her line of sight again, but Elena had her gaze stuck on Damon as if trying to figure him out. Very tentatively Stefan touched Elena's shoulder, but she hissed, grabbed Stefan by the arm and in a surprising move, pinned it behind his back.

When she realized what she did, she immediately let go and then threw herself in his arm. "Stefan, I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," he placated her. "I surprised you. That's my fault."

Damon rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall. Elena felt him move and she locked gazes with him again.

"Please…"

"I'm going to find someone for you to drain," Damon announced flippantly. "I'll be back."

And just as he made it to the door, Elena was blocking it. Hmm? She was learning _very _fast. "Please…"

"Please what?"

Elena struggled to find the right words to express the litany of emotions that were coiling around in her head. She looked pensive, yet hopeful, doubtful, yet courageous. Then settled with safe and stepped aside but grabbed the sleeve of his jacket.

"I don't want to turn."

Both Stefan and Damon sighed. They knew this was inevitable that the human part of Elena, the side of her that didn't want anyone to get hurt would only be magnified to ridiculous levels. Very gently, Damon pried her death grip off his sleeve and held her hand between both of his. He stared intently at her and saw her face go flaccid before awe shone through her eyes. Yes, he had that affect on everyone.

"I'm going to keep things real simple. No blood, you die. Drink blood, you live. See, now how hard was that?"

Elena shook her head furiously like a petulant child. "I never wanted to be a vampire."

"Well you have Dr. Feel Good and Rebekah to thank for your current predicament. What about your brother? Do you seriously want to leave Jeremy with absolutely _no _family? Not like a give a damn, but I know you do."

Elena licked her lips. She was having a hard time trying to focus because she could hear conversations taking place several floors above her head. There was a mouse running around somewhere and she wanted to find it and catch it, because its noisy little squeaking was driving her up the freaking wall. The smell of death, industrial cleaners, the aged, and diseased bodies were bombarding her at once, making her nauseous, yet above all of that she was ravenously hungry. Even as a human she had never felt this kind of hunger before like her stomach was shrinking inside of itself after being starved and deprived of food for months.

No matter what was happening to her, she couldn't fathom the man standing in front of her leaving her for a second. Elena couldn't put her finger on this desperation, or give it a name. She was very much aware of Stefan hovering uncomfortably in the background and she wanted to fly into his arms, but she was rooted to her spot staring up into eyes the color of a methane flame.

When Damon mentioned Jeremy, shame flooded her system. She didn't want to leave him, cause him anymore pain, but vampires had done so much damage to him, he might not look at her as his sister anymore. Jeremy might label her as being the enemy and she could lose him forever. Elena couldn't stomach it, and already tears were bubbling to the surface.

"I…" her mouth opened to protest. The hunger grew when she spared it a thought, which really she hadn't stopped thinking about it. "I can't do this," she mumbled in defeat.

Stefan came towards her then, and laid his hand on her shoulder. Elena shivered from his touch and then she realized that both Stefan and Damon had formed some kind of contact with her. A dirty, lustful thought streaked across her mind and she nearly grinned, but she knew the appropriate thing to do would be to break contact with them both. However, she remained right where she stood.

"We only have a short window of time," Stefan reminded her patiently.

Damon pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. He wasn't in the mood to listen to this coddling shit. Elena needed to drink blood and drink it now. If you gave her more time or options she'd only screw everything up and then they'd be off to the funeral parlor to make arrangements for her home-going service.

"I know that," Elena snapped and finally ripped her hand out Damon's grasp, and shrugged Stefan off. She ran both hands through her hair. "I need more time."

"More time for what?" Damon demanded. "To say your final goodbye's," he accused.

"I don't want to hear it, especially not from you," she pointed at him trying to scold him. "Don't act you wanted to complete the transition after you thought Katherine had been killed in the church fire."

Shaking his head, Damon looked at his brother. "You're better at this having the patience of a saint shit than I am. You deal with her."

Damon turned to leave causing Elena to panic thinking she hurt his feelings and he was off to go take his aggression out on someone.

"Damon, I'm sorry," she said hastily. "Please…don't go."

Wearily Damon sighed. He felt old suddenly. And very, very tired which was justifiable since he spent most of the night fighting for his life and getting the crap beaten out of him. He didn't need Elena's drama and theatrics, but call him a glutton for punishment, he didn't want to leave her to struggle through this either.

He turned back around to face her, and cupped her cheek. The early stages of vampirism were being kind to her—looks wise anyways. Her hair was still damp and curling slightly. She did, in this moment, remind him of Katherine. Where Kat never showed an ounce of vulnerability or softness, that's all Damon saw as he gazed at Elena. She wasn't helpless anymore. She was strong, and fast, and as time wore on who knows what she might be able to do. Her potential was limitless which meant shaping her into a perfectly cunning killing machine would be the highlight of any immortals life. He was tempted, that was for sure, but the downside was Damon would have to continue to share Elena with his brother.

And that he simply wasn't in the mood to do.

Sure, she might be acting needy of his attention and approval now, but he hadn't forgotten what she said to him before Matt's truck crashed off the bridge. There would be no wiping the slate clean and starting fresh. Elena still loved his brother, and she still cared a great deal about him, but Damon needed more than someone simply saying they cared about him.

He wanted to be loved for who he was. But above all that, he wanted to be chosen over Stefan.

"I'm your friend, Elena," Damon finally said. "I'm going to help you through this, but you're going to have to listen to me."

Elena chewed a corner of her lip. Placing total control in Damon's hands was never something she had ever been completely comfortable with. In this regard, he wouldn't lead her astray, and Stefan was there to make sure Damon wouldn't push her too hard. Elena was beginning to believe she could finish the transition and retain her humanity in the process. She was a little apprehensive about developing a blood addiction like Stefan or becoming ruthless like Damon. But the alternative was death, and Damon had been right, she didn't want to leave Jeremy, not when she still had the option of remaining in his life.

Even if it meant being a vampire.

"Okay," she murmured.

Damon flashed his eyes over to Stefan. That burning man expression was still carved on the hard lines of his face. Stefan was of the noble breed and would step aside if Elena wanted to spend more time with Damon. Somewhere deep inside his soul, Damon didn't want to chisel away the last remaining bricks in his foundation with Stefan. Contrary to popular belief, Damon did love his brother. But his love for Stefan went hand-in-hand with resentment and resentment usually won over everything else with him.

"Stay with her," Damon directed at Stefan. "I'll be right back."

This time when he left Elena didn't stop him.

* * *

Steam encompassed the room like a frustrated lover. The hiss of the shower was the only sound to be heard before the water stopped abruptly, and the shower curtain was tossed aside. One small caramel foot touched the floor followed by the other. A tiny hand reached for a fluffy periwinkle blue towel which was wrapped around the svelte body of the woman making her way to the mirror.

Bonnie Bennett wiped the condensation off the mirror and eyed herself. She had done the right thing tonight. She saved all her friends lives once again; however, the victory was especially bittersweet. She wished she could say that everything had a happy ending but that would be a lie. There was nothing happy about the fact Alaric was dead, Matt nearly drowned, Tyler was in a sense lost in his own body, and…

Elena was now transitioning.

She wanted to be there for Elena, she really did but she just couldn't. Replays of watching Abby transition attacked her and all that led to was Abby leaving again. She needed to go "find" herself as a vampire or whatever the poorly written excuse was this time to justify her fleeing the scene. Bonnie couldn't understand what was so repulsive about her that made people leave her. She lost her father to his work, Grams to the complications of performing a heavy spell, Jeremy to his ghost of an ex-girlfriend, her mom to vampirism, and now Elena…

Her fist shot forth without conscious thought into the mirror shattering glass. Pain resonated deep, and the pang filtered through all of her limbs. It was a jolt to the system. She stared impassively at the little crimson drops that started small until minute rivers began to flow from the lacerations on her knuckles and fingers. The pain felt good, almost reminded her of that moment of getting lost in the temptation of delving very briefly into dark magic.

Tears lined the rims of her eyes and Bonnie cupped her damaged hand to her chest, fell to the floor, and wept.

* * *

**Scene 2**

* * *

The next few weeks passed without much fan fair. Elena went through with the transition, yet she stayed at the boardinghouse, giving Jeremy time to adjust to the reality of the situation. Besides, under the direct supervision of two vampires it would be much better for him in the long run instead of Elena living under the same roof as him, tempting her at every waking moment.

Elena had teetered on the boring side when she was human, and was doubly boring now as a vampire. She didn't trust herself around crowds or even small groups of people, so she mostly stayed locked away at the boardinghouse like it was a castle or prison. Stefan monitored her feedings to make sure she was able to rein in her bloodlust after devouring a blood bag. At night, they went for rides on his motorcycle to break up the monotony of life.

Her friends stopped by everyday. Caroline wouldn't shut up about all the amazing things they could do once they graduated high school. Elena had decided to finish up school via mail. Bonnie, though she smiled, didn't say very much, and never stayed longer than an hour.

Damon couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she always seemed preoccupied like she was thinking of something else, or counting down the time to the very last second until she could leave. He never paid much attention to the witch of course until he needed for her something, but now that their Klaus troubles were over, the other originals had scattered, and Elena was a vampire no longer the doppelganger, life had returned to some semblance of normalcy, but Damon felt like the picture he saw everyday was off somehow.

So he started playing closer attention when Bonnie and Caroline came over.

Caroline usually dominated whatever conversation they were having. Ugh, couldn't she shut up for two seconds? Damon would glare at her from across the room, to which she'd ignore him and continue on and on and on. Elena would sit there patiently, smile, laugh, ask questions and clarification on details, but Bonnie…

There was nothing. She was there physically, but the rest of her was someplace else. And then, after about a month, she stopped coming by to see Elena.

The first day she didn't show up, no one really gave it that much thought, figured she had something else to do. On the second day, Elena forever the worry wart wanted someone to check on her just to make sure she was all right. The third day came and went, and before long a full three weeks had passed. No one saw Bonnie and if they did it was from a distance. If you managed to get her on the phone, the conversation lasted no more than five minutes—if that long.

Caroline showed up in distress one day saying she spotted Bonnie at school hanging around another group of people. When she went up to approach her, Bonnie blew her off and said she'd talk to her later.

"Maybe she's under stress. Finals are coming up," Elena tried to make excuses for her friend. "And she has been working overtime to find Klaus a replacement body."

Caroline didn't like to talk about that. When she learned what Bonnie had done, at first she was furious until she stopped long enough to realize that what Bonnie did saved all of their lives. No, she wasn't happy that Klaus had temporary control over Tyler's body, and she was glad Bonnie told her before she returned and greeted Tyler with a sex marathon. However, Caroline was almost certain something else was going on with her best friend.

She refuted Elena's speculation with the shake of her head. "She's dressing differently, too. She's been wearing darker colors, and her curls are gone permanently."

Elena laughed. "That doesn't suggest that the end of the world is imminent simply because Bonnie wanted to change up her look."

"She's wearing black nail polish," Caroline blurted scandalized. "Tell me that's not the first sign of a witch dabbling in dark magic?"

"Is she wearing spiked collars and plaid? Fishnet stockings and chunky military style boots, too?"

To that Caroline rolled her eyes. "Funny. But she's carrying around her grimoire everywhere now, and even doing little spells in full view of the public. Just yesterday I saw her float her purse out of her car. I know other people saw it too. She's been opening doors and her locker without touching them."

A look of concern did flash over Elena's face but she quickly brushed off Caroline's needless worrying. "This just might be her way of blowing off steam. Things have been quiet for a while. Maybe if she doesn't use her magic it can build up and she needs to let it out before something bad happens."

"Possibly," Caroline was doubtful that was the case. In the beginning, Bonnie did everything in her arsenal not to use her powers or learn too much. She saw what happened to her grandmother and didn't want the same to happen to her. What she just shared with Elena all added up to out of character behavior for Bonnie.

Damon had been in the library listening into their conversation. He had spent enough time with Bonnie to know she didn't do anything to draw unnecessary attention to herself.

He thought back to when he and Bonnie waited together at the boardinghouse for Abby to show up to spill on how to perform the desiccation spell. Abby shared with Bonnie that she had to reach into dark places, places of temptation in order to work the spell, and that she had to find a balance among the living. Who knows what kind of high Bonnie had been on after stopping and then restarting a human heart. Damon asked little to no questions, his only concern being the bottom line. And Bonnie seemed to have bounced back to her usual self afterwards proving her theory she was strong enough to handle it.

But Damon knew consequences were always attached to doing a spell. Some alteration had to occur in order for nature to find its balance once again. When she brought Jeremy back from the dead he turned into Haley Joel Osment and saw dead people, which actually turned out convenient for Damon, not so much for Bonnie.

Even as Damon thought on all of this he wondered what did it really matter. So long as Bonnie didn't turn any of her wicked ways on him, she could do what she liked to everyone else.

That night he held up his usual post at The Grill, eyeing his prospects, murdering his last remaining liver and kidney cells with Johnnie Walker. Some country western song was blasting from the speakers, and it was a depressing as hell song. He had an itch to disappear in the world for a few decades and reestablish what made him Damon Salvatore in the first place.

Damon turned suddenly to face the door. In walked Bonnie attired in skintight dark jeans and a black leather jacket that was zipped up to her chin. There was nothing unusual about her from the distance. She looked the same—overly serious for no reason. On the surface there was nothing wrong with her.

He watched as she took a seat at a booth and tapped her nails on the table. Picking up his drink, Damon decided to join her. Besides he had nothing to do and there was no one here worth his flirting skills. Bonnie in the past provided a good enough distraction when he needed someone to irritate, and their interactions typically woke up the slumbering beast within him.

Placing his drink on the table, Damon plopped down in front of her. Bonnie's tapping fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their beat. Caroline had been right, her fingernails were painted a deep, smooth black that semi-sparkled in the recessed lighting of the restaurant. They looked nice, in his opinion.

Slowly Damon brought his incandescent blue eyes to her face. Bonnie was wearing very little to no makeup. Her lips were shiny as if she had bitten into a ripe, juicy melon. Her green eyes jumped out from the rest of her face and were surrounded by long black lashes.

"Can I help you, Damon?"

The vampire in question shrugged. Things between them had remained tense since he turned her mother into a vampire. They worked together to try to bring down Alaric, which failed but they were able to take out Klaus, which had been an even greater plus. Damon wasn't completely sure what ground he stood on with Bonnie. He had no need to question it in the past because Bonnie made it known she didn't trust and or liked him.

Damon remembered the smile she gave him when they showed up at Mystic Falls High to rescue Elena and Caroline, and stop Alaric. Bonnie had smiled as she showed him the new app on her phone that could pinpoint her friends' exact location through their phones. Instead of saying he was impressed he mumbled "A digital locator spell. What the hell do we need you for?" It was rude and Damon almost didn't want to put his back to Bonnie unsure of what she might do to retaliate like throw said phone at the back of his head.

But it was that smile she gave him like they were "almost friends" since they were fighting on the same team, which weirded him out more than anything. Bonnie never smiled at him. She either frowned or scrunched up her nose in distaste when having to deal with him.

That was not the case tonight. She wasn't smiling, or glowering at him, but merely looking. Looking without blinking.

Damon cleared his throat. "You haven't been to the house in a while."

Bonnie's expression didn't change. Damon saw no remorse or guilt in her eyes. "I'm surprised you noticed."

"What do you mean by that?"

Bonnie nails continued to tap rhythmically on the table surface. It was beginning to drive Damon nuts. "I mean…it's always been hard for you to see considering your head has been lodged up my friend's ass for years now. It's made you blind in one eye and unable to see jack shit out of the other."

Damon's eyebrows rose. He snorted and finished off the rest of his Johnnie Walker. He wanted to take the glass and smash it on floor and say "I'll have another," but he refrained.

"Well aren't you just a bucket of sunshine and rainbows today," Damon mused. "Who pissed you off? I know it wasn't me."

A small smirked graced Bonnie's face and disappeared like a UFO sighting. "I am neither mad nor content about anything, Damon. I am simply…existing," she huffed and stopped tapping her nails.

"Welcome to my world," Damon mumbled sarcastically. "Seriously…is everything all right with you? You seem different and your change in wardrobe has scared the bejesus out of Vampire Barbie."

If Damon wasn't mistaken, he would say that dark clouds formed in Bonnie's eyes. They vanished of course but it left him feeling puzzled.

"I don't want to talk about my friends with you."

Ice dripped from her words. Damon heeded the undertone, the threat that if he continued with his questions she would not be able to hold back whatever was rippling under the surface.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked cautiously.

"Nothing."

"All right, so we'll sit here and stare at one another."

"Or you could kindly remove your decrepit ass from this booth and go back to the bar. You don't like me. I don't like you. You don't have to pretend to be my friend or that you care about me, Damon."

It never bothered him in the past when Bonnie made her feelings plain that he wasn't one of her favorite people, but tonight he was making an exception. Damon hadn't been nice to Bonnie, hadn't taken her feelings into consideration at least not when it came to the game of Survivor they had been playing for years it seemed. She was different. She had changed. There was nothing but ice around her soul. Damon could feel it like chilled fingers running along his spine.

However, he didn't back away from challenges. He foolishly thought teaching Elena the ropes of being a vampire would provide some kind of mindless entertainment. He thought he'd have to fight off her lust with a stick at every corner, but nope. He got nothing out of the deal. Just more of her uncertainty and second-guessing.

Damon stared down at his empty glass momentarily and then looked back up at Bonnie while throwing his arm over the back of the booth. "What if I did say I _do _care about you, Bonnie?"

She didn't respond for a while. And then Damon heard it, soft at first before it increased in volume. She was laughing. For the first time in the last ten minutes, Bonnie's features softened.

"I'm sorry," she sobered and chuckled. "I'm sure you _almost _believed that yourself."

Now Damon was feeling impatient. "Is it really that hard for you to believe that I might care something for you?"

Bonnie slapped her hand on the table. The force alone somehow, someway cracked his shot glass clean down the middle. The two parts fell away.

"Was that a demonstration on what you'd like to do to me?" Damon asked flirtatiously.

"Damon," Bonnie said exasperatedly. "I'm just tired. Really, really, really tired of…not being able to do what I want. I was used by those witches who claim to look out for their own. They possessed me, made me turn Alaric, and they simply left me there for dead." She shook her head. "You don't know how that felt, or maybe you do. To wake up and realize your own kind sold you out. Klaus pushed me around; _you_ pushed me around while the rest of my friends treated me and talked to me like I'm their magical negro. Oh, yeah, I googled it, and it made me break shit. The lot of you have turned me into a plot device to further along _your _stories, but what about me? What about my narrative? Doesn't it matter?"

By far that was the longest speech Bonnie had ever said to him or to anyone, Damon was sure. In her words he identified her frustration, disappointment, loneliness, and heartache. For the first time in a while Damon took his eyes off his own problems and issues and focused on someone other than Stefan and Elena. He sat across from Bonnie examining her while her eyes were shifting back and forth over the table. There was a small part of him, like a fraction that wanted to give her some type of physical comfort but he knew Bonnie wouldn't welcome it.

He had been in her shoes before. Back when he was human. Damon had been pushed around by his father and society's expectations of how a first-born son should be. He had been pushed around by his love, need, and desperation for Katherine. He had been kicked around by Elena.

Yet none of that could really compare to what Bonnie had gone through. Damon was guilty of forgetting she was only eighteen years old—that she was an actual person and not an automaton. Saying sorry wouldn't cut it, Damon knew that and Bonnie wasn't looking for an apology, but something else.

Damon had nothing to give her. And this was uncharted territory for him. He and Bonnie had their strange dichotomy where he could say something snarky and she'd act offended or throw his snark right back at him. In all honesty, when he was around Bonnie he felt more like himself and alive. Around everyone else Damon had to wear masks, had to stuff his larger-than-life personality into a box where it didn't fit. He always had a sense of wrongness about him when he interacted with the other inhabitants of Mystic Falls, but when he was around Bonnie, on occasion Alaric, and even Caroline, he was more of himself.

However, coming to the realization that he was an active participant in destroying who Bonnie was at heart did strange things to his insides. They flopped around, almost nervously, and he suddenly had the sense of walking around eggshells. Damon was not delicate or eloquent with the spoken word. That was Stefan's forte, and he certainly wasn't Stefan.

Licking his lips, Damon figured why not give it a shot. "Bonnie…"

As if spooked, Bonnie shot out of the booth and left the restaurant. Damon was more than a bit taken aback by her actions. He had a mind to follow her, but he didn't. He sat there at the booth, played over her words. He didn't know how to help her, and even if he did know there was no guarantee Bonnie would accept his help. It was best they just left things as they were. But everything she shared with him had been right. Bonnie had been used by everyone, and Damon wasn't sure what was left, if any, of her soul.

A vague part of him said that wasn't right or fair. That she deserved better. From all of them.

**A/N: More is to follow. Continue reading. Thanks for tuning in. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**

**Scene 3**

More weeks passed and Damon didn't see much of Bonnie. School was out. She was an official high school graduate but she didn't attend the ceremony. Everyone tried to pretend that was the most normal thing in the world smiling at the camera, while steadily craning their necks through the crowd hoping to see her. Caroline of course did some snooping and found out that Bonnie had requested her diploma be mailed to her.

The after party took place at the boardinghouse. The booze flowed freely. Strangers infiltrated all corners of his house while Damon kept a careful watch to make sure no one traipsed upstairs to his room, or got into his good liquor. Bonnie's friends try to pretend they were enjoying themselves but it was written over their faces that they were worried about her. Her cell phone had been disconnected, and no one answered the door whenever someone stopped by her house to check on her.

It was like she vanished into thin air.

"We have to find her," Damon walked in on Elena talking to Stefan.

"If Bonnie wanted you to know where she was going, she would have told you."

Two sets of eyes glared at him and Damon backed out of the room, no longer in the mood to put in his two cents. He never shared with them the conversation he had with Bonnie right before she fell off the face of the earth. In a lot of ways Damon kind of felt like a therapist and if he told he'd be violating Bonnie's patient confidentially trust. But in all honesty, what would telling Elena and the rest of the bunch that Bonnie felt like their slave, do? Everyone would feel guilty. Everyone would then to go out of his or her way to refute her claims, but it would only serve to annoy the crap out of Bonnie. If someone called you on your shit, don't try to cover up the shit with false thanksgiving for having that person in your life. Bonnie would have seen through the act and blasted them all to kingdom come.

Later that night, after he kicked the last guests out of his house, and was up in his bedroom, Elena knocked on his door and strolled in.

"Stefan and I were talking about Bonnie. We thought getting into contact with Lucy so she could do a locator spell would help us find her. We just want to make sure she's all right."

"So why are you telling me?"

Elena stared at him perplexed. "I know you and Bonnie have never been close, but I thought as her friend you'd like to know."

At that Damon snorted and snapped the book he had been reading closed. "Bonnie and I were never friends so please don't pretend we were."

"So you don't care either way if we go through with this?"

Damon studied Elena for a moment trying to figure out why she was here, and what she was hoping he'd say or do. "What I'd like to know is why do _you _need proof of this so-called friendship you've built up your head that I shared with Bonnie? Our only connection was you. Other than that," Damon hunched his shoulders, "we stayed out of each other's way."

"But I'm not in the way anymore."

Damon was really getting confused by this conversation. Was Elena trying to imply that he had a secret crush on her friend? If she was, where did she get that silly little idea from?

"Elena…"

She was standing in front of him in an instant, pulling one of his moves, crowding his space. "You've been different since she's been gone."

Had he?

"And?"

"Well…you haven't been flirting with me like you normally do and it seems you stopped since the night I saw you sitting across from Bonnie at a booth at The Grill."

This surprised Damon. Immensely. Elena was of the nosy breed so if she had empirical proof that he and Bonnie shared words, it was in her nature to dig for answers and not stop until she got them.

When Damon focused his eyes on Elena they were downcast. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough." Pause. "She hates us."

Sadness dripped from Elena's words causing Damon to take a step away from her.

"We're the reason why she's gone. Why she wants nothing to do with us." She made eye contact with Damon once more. This time her eyes were filled with tears. "I'm the reason why my best friend left."

_Here we go, _Damon thought in terms of Elena's endless guilt. He could placate her and tell her it wasn't her fault and that she shouldn't blame herself for someone else's decision, but he was too sick and tired of having this conversation with Elena. Again, he wasn't his brother. Stefan was who she should be having this little chit-chat with, not him. What transpired between him and the witch always stayed in that context. It was one of the rare relationships Damon had that if he stepped out of line, he was slapped back into place.

"She'll come home. Eventually. One day," Damon went with optimism.

Elena wasn't so sure. "I heard what she said, Damon, and I saw how sad she looked when she said it. She's not coming back. I won't have the chance to make things right between us."

_And there she goes_, Damon thought as Elena tried to make someone's else misery about her.

He sighed. "If it'll make you feel better I'll go look for her."

Elena brightened considerably. "You would? But I thought she's not your friend."

"Maybe you didn't hear me," Damon reiterated. "I said if it makes _you _feel better, I'll look for her."

"Don't do this for me. Do it because Bonnie would do the same for you even if it went against her instincts, preference, or choice."

A look of understanding passed between them, and Elena left.

* * *

**Scene 4**

* * *

It took Damon six weeks to find her. Or more specifically she found him. He was in Pennsylvania, deep in Amish country and had pulled into a gas station. The pumps were old school so he couldn't swipe his credit card at the pump. He had to go inside to pay. Along with the gas, Damon purchased a bag of red licorice. He loved licorice in his formative years and was feeling nostalgic. Just as he was leaving, he ran into a small bodied person, almost knocking the person backwards. He felt a spark, immediately identified it as being supernatural—more specifically—a witch and tensed expecting an inevitable showdown.

His eyes dropped to the hooded person and when the person lifted their head, his eyes came into contact with chartreuse eyes.

Bonnie pushed her hood off her head, looking pissed and fierce. "I _knew _it was you."

Damon leaned casually against a pile of chopped logs allowing a cocky smile to grace his lips. "I'm glad I didn't disappoint."

"What are you doing here?" Bonnie asked tersely.

"I should be the one asking you that question," he quickly looked around the parking lot fully expecting to see her Prius but it was nowhere in sight.

As he brought his eyes to Bonnie once more and ran them over her attire, he noticed her jeans were caked with dirt as well as her shoes suggesting she had spent a great deal walking along a dirt paved road. She could definitely use a shower and a fresh change of clothes because she was dressed as if she had been traipsing around post-apocalyptic America. It was the summer after all, but it was cooler here.

Bonnie was scowling at him.

"Everyone has been in a tizzy since you left. You deprived me of the opportunity to give you a graduation card, balloon, and stuffed teddy bear."

"As you can see, I'm fine," she spat.

"Yeah, right," countered Damon.

Bonnie wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. She said nothing else to Damon, but turned in her boots and marched off.

Gas forgotten, Damon hopped in his car and started following her down the street. "Get in the car, Bonnie."

"I don't want to go back."

"Okay, cool. But you're not taking another step on this isolated road. Someone who's not as nice as me might try to pick you up."

"I can take care of myself."

"You've been walking all day. I can tell. And where the hell is your car?"

Bonnie sighed and stopped. If she walked to New York Damon would keep pace with her. She had been walking for the last six hours since she had gotten it into her head to pull a Forrest Gump and see how far she could go before getting tired.

"I sold my car."

"Why would you do that?"

"Are you dense? I needed money."

Damon stood corrected. "How much do you have left?" From her appearance alone and the fact she was walking and not on a plane or bus suggested if she wasn't broke already, she had mere pennies left.

Suddenly feeling like a child, Bonnie kicked a few rocks along the road. She had enough to pay for a hotel room, after that, she wasn't sure what she'd have to do. When the idea came into her head that she needed to get out of Mystic Falls, Bonnie didn't plan. She didn't think how long she'd stay gone for, where she'd go, and what she would do once she reached her destination. She knew she needed cash and her only source was her car. She had six hundred dollars in her personal checking and savings account combined, but that wouldn't set her up anywhere, not even temporarily.

So she went to the first available car lot she could find, and sold her car since it was already paid off compliments of her father.

For the first few weeks of her excursion Bonnie lived and ate like a queen. But staying in luxury hotels ate up her funds faster than overdraft fees.

"Enough," was all Bonnie would admit.

Damon didn't believe her of course. He swung open the door to his Camaro. "In. Now."

"Damon…just go back to Virginia, please."

Cutting the engine to conserve his last quarter tank of gas, Damon was out of the car and standing in front of Bonnie. He wasn't beyond manhandling her by this point. She picked the most impossible times to be difficult.

"Get in the car, Bonnie."

"I'm not getting in your car, and I don't want to hurt you, Damon. Just leave me alone."

"I am so sick of hearing those empty words from you. Leave me alone, Damon you suck," he mimicked her voice. "When have I ever listened to you?"

"That's the problem because you never listen to anybody! You just do whatever the hell you want and you seldom get punished for it. Oh, sure you might bleed a little, but you're always good as new in the end. You know…I never should have called Elena and told her you were being held by Klaus and Rebekah. Of all the stupid things I've done this year that by far was the stupidest decision I made. I should have just let them kill you."

Well, if that wasn't the meanest thing Bonnie had ever said to him, Damon couldn't recall anything else that flowed out of her mouth that stung so badly.

He glared at her slightly. "You know what…forget it. Good luck out here in the wilderness."

Bonnie's eyes widened before they narrowed. She shook her head and continued off on foot as Damon got back in his car, did a three point turn, and blew past the gas station.

He banged his hand against the steering wheel as he warred with what to do next. The old him would just let her march herself right off the edge of the earth, but the semi-new and improved Damon knew he'd feel guilty as hell if something did happen to her and because he let his temper get the better of him, he did nothing to stop it.

Stomping on the brake, Damon zipped through his options. "Fuck," he cursed, turned around yet again and sped down the highway until a dark figure came into his sight once more.

"Bonnie!"

She ignored him and kept walking. Fed up, Damon sped up and then cut her off by parking his car across the two lane highway. He was out and walking towards her.

"You just don't know when to give up do you?" Bonnie asked.

"You hate me for what I did to your mother, I understand that."

"I don't want to talk about Abby with you."

"No," they were now less than five feet away from each other. "You need to get it out of your system because you've been holding it in for too long." They now stood toe-to-toe. "I snapped your mother's neck like it was nothing. I fed her my blood and I did it all to save Elena."

Fury was smeared across Bonnie's face. Fire danced in her eyes.

"All everyone ever does anymore is try to save Elena's life," Damon continued. "We wake up in the morning, and go 'hey I wonder how I'm going to be forced to come up with some clever way to save Elena's life today.' All of our lives revolve around that one individual and you are fucking sick of it. I hurt people over her, for her, because of her, however you want to look at it. I took your mother away from you and I joked about sending you a lasagna in lieu of an apology."

Bonnie slapped him. It stung because Damon hadn't expected that. Hadn't prepared himself. He blinked his eyes, and wondered if his jaw was still attached to his face.

"Why are you doing this?" Bonnie questioned heatedly. "_What_ are you trying to prove? That you're heartless? I already know that. That you'll continue to screw over everyone if it means saving Elena's life? I know that, too. I don't want anything from you, Damon. Not a half-ass apology. Not a ride. Not your help. Just stay the hell away from me and that's the last time I'm telling you this."

Bonnie marched around him, but Damon grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him.

That did it. Fists were flying and actually connecting to his cheek, lip, and upside his head. Damon was stunned to say the least, but he was faster and stronger, and managed to flatten Bonnie's arms to her sides, but she used her legs, and tried to kick at him, but Damon got her in the car.

Once in the car, driving became somewhat hazardous since Bonnie's earlier assault had been the warm up. She screamed obscenities at him, threatened to do interesting things to his genitalia that was simply medieval, scratched him, and actually bit him a time or two.

"Calm down!" Damon shouted at her, spittle flew out of his mouth as he tried to keep the car on the road, and not catch a case at the same time. He was proud of the fact that he never hit a woman, but Bonnie was testing him.

Then his engine made a weird sputtering sound before the car rolled to a stop. Out of gas, just perfect Damon thought.

Bonnie took that as her opportunity to make a mad dash out of the car. She was clear across the field, tears flying from her eyes, blood dripping from her knuckles. She wanted to tear the world in half, she wanted to char the earth, and cause endless destruction but even Bonnie doubted it would be enough to close that gaping wound in her chest.

Her energy was depleting and she had no earthly idea where she was going, but it didn't matter so long as she put miles between herself and Damon Salvatore. She hated him. And hate was such a strong emotion but it almost didn't seem strong enough or fitting. Damon had his reasons for doing the horrible things he's done to other people: he was bored, he was angry, his feelings were hurt. So forth and so on. Other than setting him on fire that one time, which she didn't even get to finish because Elena had to get in the way, and maybe giving him a migraine every once a while, those were not offenses serious enough for him to kill her mother.

Nothing on this planet could ever justify that. Yes, she knew perfectly well that Elena's life had been on the line that night. When was it not? But…

She felt him coming up behind her. Bonnie stopped running, and spun around to face him. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? It was simple. Obviously he didn't mind having his ass kicked, and Bonnie wasn't done kicking it. The little bit of pain she had been able to inflict on him had already worn off. That was his advantage and her disadvantage.

Bonnie unzipped her leather jacket, took it off, followed by the thin cotton hoodie tossing both items on the ground. She stood poised before him in a black tank top that had seen better days.

"You're not tired, sweetheart?"

The war cry that was ripped from Bonnie's soul answered that question. She charged forward, clearing the space separating them, and jumped on Damon. Bonnie actually knocked Damon on his back, another surprise. And she didn't waste time, knocking his head from left to right, right to left. If she hadn't broken a knuckle already she certainly would if she kept this up.

Damon blocked one of her punches, grabbed a hold of her wrists and in less than a nanosecond he was on his feet, Bonnie's legs around him, and her back was braced up against a tree.

"STOP IT!"

Breathing heavily, Bonnie noticed their precarious situation not to mention the fact their faces were so close together that when Damon exhaled through his nose she felt it flutter against her skin. Bonnie's eyes were obscured by her hair. There was very little daylight left as night was settling in. His hands felt like bands around her wrists and were cutting off the blood circulation to her fingers.

"I'm sorry, Bonnie. For every foul thing I've done to you and to the people you love. If I could go back and change it, I would. You're one of the few people in my life I actually respect, and what I did, there's no excuse for it. You didn't deserve that and I am so very sorry. _I'm_ sorry."

Unable to look away, Bonnie's left eye narrowed as she tried to gauge Damon's sincerity. He didn't do apologies. So to hear him say he was sorry, she didn't want to believe him, actually couldn't believe him. Because Damon had a way of saying one thing and doing the complete opposite.

She unwrapped her legs from around his waist once she realized that's how he was holding her up against the tree. Blood colored her cheeks, yet she didn't speak a word to him.

Damon let her go seeing that she was calm.

They were standing at the edge of a precipice. Either turn around and go home or take that leap of faith forward and see where it might land you next.

**A/N: I don't want to keep rehashing the past in my stories, but I feel in this its necessary in order to get to where this will be going. He-he. I'll say this, I won't really touch on Bonnie going dark because I feel like that's a process. One minute she's honky dory and the next she's Darth Vader, I believe all of that takes time and that several steps are involved. The first being, isolating herself from those she loves and shutting down emotionally. The question is, will she go over to the dark side or will Damon stop her before she does? Keep reading to find out. Your thoughts are most certainly welcomed. Love you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's read this so far. I wanted to upload all these chapters at once, but I had to take some pit stops. You know, there's something about Bamon and I just can't leave them alone. Enjoy.  
**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Scene 5**

Adrenaline was still pumping through Bonnie's system. "I don't trust you."

"I've never asked for your trust."

Pursing her lips, Bonnie pushed her hair out of her eyes. Damon noticed that she had a cut below her hairline. It didn't look too bad but he did wonder how she got it. It looked old. As his eyes traveled down her arms, he noticed there was a discolored bruise on her right shoulder. This was not the result of the tussle they just had.

His concern turned to anger. "What happened to you?"

At first Bonnie was lost by the question and when she realized she was standing before Damon in her tank top and that her bruises were showing, she tried to find her hoodie and jacket to cover back up.

"Nothing," she lied and walked around him.

Damon was right back on her, turned her to the side so he could get a closer look at her shoulder. "This doesn't look like nothing, Bonnie."

The girl in question tried to shrug him off, but Damon wasn't letting her go. "Who else did you try to beat up?"

Bonnie sealed her mouth.

"Now you want to be mute. Tell me what happened. I have ways of getting you to talk."

Green eyes rolled. "I was…mugged," she replied looking down feeling vulnerable and slightly shamed.

The muscles in his body that Damon didn't even know were tense became even tighter. And it finally dawned on him that he didn't see Bonnie carrying a bag when he initially ran into her.

"Damn it, Bonnie. This is the reason why you shouldn't be on your own. What were you going to do for money?"

Her nostrils flared. Just because she was no longer swinging didn't mean he had the right to chastise her. "I have my money taped on me. I'm not some brainless idiot that doesn't know how to protect her valuables when on the road."

"Why didn't you use your witchy powers to get your stuff back?"

Something flashed in her eyes before they became impassive again. "I've been trying not to use."

To Damon she sounded like an addict. Then he had a dark thought perhaps she _had _turned into one when no one was looking. It would explain her behavior before she just upped and disappeared.

Tempering his anger, Damon stared at her. "Were your shoulder and head the only places you were injured?"

Bonnie nodded. But then thought about her knee. "No…my knee was banged up pretty bad. I couldn't walk for almost an entire day."

Damon was not the mothering type but he did want to check out her knee. "Let me see."

"I'm okay."

Damon gave up. He wouldn't push. "We should get back to the car. We can't stay out in this field. Here let me carry you."

Bonnie snorted. "I can walk. I had no problems running across this sucker if you hadn't noticed."

"Whatever," Damon said turned and headed back towards his car. Once there, he collected his cell phone, and overnight bag. They weren't that far from the gas station, but they would get there a lot quicker if Bonnie hopped on his back and he vampire-sped his way to the last marker of civilization.

He explained as much to Bonnie, who didn't protest, and hopped on without complaint. In the past, Bonnie avoided making physical contact with Damon as much as possible, and tried her very best not to recoil when she had to touch him. Nevertheless she kind of did enjoy the way his lean muscles bunched against her skin as he ran down the highway like a gazelle or a lizard running across water.

Damon slowed his speed and once they were close enough, Bonnie hopped off his back. Together they walked inside the gas station and Bonnie sighed in relief once the air conditioning hit her hot skin. Self-consciousness took over as she realized she hadn't had a bath in almost forty-eight hours, and it was July.

She perused the aisles looking for hygiene products while Damon talked with the gas station attendant. Bonnie grabbed toothpaste, a travel sized tooth brush, lotion, deodorant, and a few other miscellaneous things. The only clothes the gas station had to offer were Dale Earnhardt and John Deere t-shirts. She settled with Dale Earnhardt. She brought all of her items up to the counter and then held her hand out towards Damon.

He stared at her a bit incredulously but reached inside his pocket for his wallet and coughed up his cash. While she had been busy going on a shopping spree, Damon had talked the attendant into calling up his second cousin, Bubba to haul Damon's car back to the gas station.

Two hours later, they pulled into the only economy hotel in this part of Pennsylvania. Bonnie was not amused by what she saw inside.

A single bed dominated the room. An old box television was perched on a dresser that looked ready to collapse. The carpet was covered with stains, and there was a musty smell to the air that Bonnie was sure wasn't her. Her hopes were not so high for the bathroom, but at this low point in her life being stuck in Pennsylvania with Damon Salvatore, so long as there was running water and towels, she would be fine.

Saying nothing to him, Bonnie carried her plastic bag of goodies into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut.

Damon slipped out of his ruined Alexander McQueen black t-shirt. He wondered if he should call and let Stefan know he found Bonnie. Knowing his brother, he'd tell Elena and Elena would demand to speak with her. Damon was certain Bonnie didn't want to talk to anyone in Mystic Falls so he would wait.

The water felt amazing against her skin. Bonnie scrubbed until there was nothing but bone left, and repeated the process. She held off on washing her hair. Only because she didn't have a flat iron handy. She didn't want to leave the safe confines of the bathroom, but knew she couldn't remain inside all night. Damon probably wanted to shower as well, not like she cared, but it was the nice side of personality that said she had hogged the bathroom enough.

Stepping out of the shower, Bonnie went through the rest of her nightly routine. She was hungry, but snuck in a pack of Toll House cookies with her purchases, which she would enjoy greatly.

Donned in her fabulous "nightgown", Bonnie grabbed her bag and reentered the bedroom.

Where the fuck was his shirt? Was the first thing to race through her mind. Clearing her throat, Bonnie tried to ignore the vampire sitting half-naked on the bed channel surfing. The tension between them sprung up anew and Bonnie was instantly irritated. Why? She couldn't really say. Yet here she was feeling like road kill that had been scrapped off the side of the road wearing an oversized t-shirt of 'The Intimidator' locked in a cheap motel room with the bane of her existence. And Damon had the nerve to look picture perfect ready to do an editorial spread for GQ. She was livid!

"The bathroom is yours," she said despite her irritation.

"Thank you, Queen Bonnie as my manly stench was surely to attract flies." Rising from the bed, Damon stomped into the bathroom.

With him occupied Bonnie brought her attention to the bed. How were they going to do this? Yes it was a king sized bed and ideally she could sleep on her end and never know Damon occupied the other, but…she shuddered. She couldn't feasibly climb into bed with Damon. Her eyes trailed over to the kitchenette table and the two hard, unforgiving chairs pushed up underneath. He should feel right at home over there, Bonnie thought.

Bonnie ate a handful of cookies and chased it down with half a bottle of water. Damon was still in the shower, and from what she could hear, it sounded like he was humming. If she snuggled under the covers, which again she tried not to be repulsed, and pretend she was asleep that might encourage him not to talk to her.

Decision made, Bonnie pulled back the covers fully expecting to see a legion of ants and roaches running for the hills. Surprisingly the sheets were pristine white and smelled Downy fresh. Bonnie wished she knew a decontamination spell, but oh well. She climbed in.

She turned so her back would be facing the bathroom door. Bonnie shut her eyes and hoped sleep would come.

What seemed like an hour later, Damon stepped out of the bathroom. He had a towel wrapped low around his hips while his jet black hair was slicked off his face. His eyes immediately went to the bundle that was hidden under the covers. He listened for a minute to see if Bonnie were playing possum or was actually asleep. From her labored breathing, he knew she was asleep.

Part of him was kind of disappointed. He wanted to make her even more uncomfortable by parading around in his towel and nothing else, but he'd get another chance in the morning. Damon stopped to wonder why he even wanted to bother. Bonnie had assaulted him and then proceeded to rob him blind. Who knew you could find almost fifty dollars worth of stuff to buy at a gas station. Self-preservation advised him to keep his antagonizing to the bare minimum, but he just couldn't help himself when it came to her.

Typically Damon slept in the nude but he was sure Bonnie wouldn't appreciate that. He dug around in his bag and removed a pair of modest boxer briefs and slipped them on under his towel. Whipping the towel from around his waist, he hung it up on the back of one of the chairs at the kitchenette table.

His eyes went back to Bonnie. She hadn't moved a single muscle. There was nothing to watch on television, and even if Damon dressed and tried to find a bar it would be filled with what? He didn't even want to imagine it. Besides, he needed to keep an eye on Bonnie and make sure she stayed put.

As if sensing his thoughts were about her, Bonnie turned over in bed, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted open. Damon froze wondering if she was about to wake up and start screaming at him for something, but she settled back against the bed and continued to doze.

Damon had made a few purchases of his own from the gas station, other than the licorice. He had bought a bottle of Grey Goose. At first the gas station attendant didn't want to sell it to him since Bonnie was with him. The old man probably thought he was swiping it for the kid, and Damon could really careless what he thought. Bonnie was eighteen, therefore legal so if he was about to get her liquored up and do sinfully wicked things to her body, Damon was well within in his rights to do so.

Nevertheless he took a seat at the table, cracked open the bottle, and merely observed Bonnie while she slept.

Well, this had been the most time they spent together in one setting. They had gone through their usual routine of bickering like old ladies, but like the phoenix they rose from their own ashes unscathed.

Mostly.

Guzzling from the bottle, Damon wished he had something else to do other than watch a teenager sleep the night away. When he checked the time on his cell he scoffed. It was barely ten o'clock. What the hell was he supposed to do all night?

Damon figured there'd be no harm in trying to scope out the nightlife. It would be much better for his mood if he got away from Bonnie for awhile. And from the soft snores that were passing through her lips, she wouldn't be moving from that spot anytime soon. Decision made, Damon quickly dressed in all black, grabbed his keys, and wondered if he should leave a note for Bonnie in case she woke up.

Rolling his eyes, he searched for a pen and something to write on. Surprisingly this cheap room did offer stationary although Damon wasn't sure if anyone would be impressed with receiving a letter from Little Plains Inn. He scribbled down his intentions, left it on the adjacent pillow, and ghosted from the room.

* * *

**Scene 6**

* * *

Something was touching her. Struggling to wake up and stay asleep, Bonnie cracked open one eye to see what was pressing against her. She nearly choked on her spit when she noticed that Damon was lying beside her, but more to the matter his hand was pressed between her ass and the mattress. Bonnie manhandled her natural instinct to kick him in his solar plexus back into its cage. Heat flashed through her, surprising her, but she quickly scooted to the far recesses of the bed, pulled down her shirt, and regretted her decision not to put her previously worn underwear back on.

It took a little while for her to fall back to sleep since Bonnie was aware of Damon lying in bed next to her. But she snapped her eyes closed and it didn't take long before she was in la-la land once more.

When Damon shifted to turn over, he felt a tiny foot against his leg. Lifting his head from the pillow he saw Bonnie stretched out across the bed resembling a chalk outline. What he hadn't counted on seeing was a little cheek action. It registered, somewhat slowly to Damon that Bonnie wasn't wearing panties.

Instant erection.

Groaning, Damon turned until he was on his stomach, crushing his massive flag pole in the process. He knew he should have taken that barmaid up on her offer to go back to her place. Nope, he had to be noble, turned her down, and returned to his reluctant charge. Great, now he was doggedly curious about what the rest of Bonnie looked like naked.

The next time Bonnie woke up, she was on her back. Apparently she and Damon were wild sleepers and couldn't stay still. Small slivers of daylight illuminated the room, and she wondered what time it was. Sighing deeply, Bonnie frowned when she felt pressure on her chest. Looking down she saw a lily white hand cupping her breast.

Bonnie ripped his hand off her breast, rage making her nostrils flare. When she snapped her head to glare daggers at him, she noticed Damon was sleeping on his stomach with his head turned away from her. That didn't matter to Bonnie because she felt that even on an unconscious level, Damon Salvatore was still very much aware of his actions.

She poked him hard right on the center of his back.

"Whaaaaat?" Damon croaked, head shifting to face her.

"Don't you _ever _put your hands on me again!"

Damon opened his eyes. What the hell was she bitching about now? "I didn't touch you."

"You had your hand on my breast!" Bonnie seethed.

"I didn't put it there on purpose!" Damon yelled back feeling just as frustrated. "Geeze, just go back to sleep, damnit."

"Stay on your side of the bed."

"Yeah, all right but practice what you preach, Bennett. Stop trying to feel me up with your feet."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, slammed her body back on the bed and presented her back to Damon once again.

Yet he slid closer to Bonnie and loomed over her, not really to whisper in her ear, but he was close enough. "And while you're at it…don't flash me your goods either."

Bonnie gasped. She flipped over in bed, realizing too late how close he was to her. The retort that was on her tongue, seemingly vanished as Bonnie realized that a slight five o'clock shadow had appeared around his jaw overnight. His black hair was disheveled yet did nothing to diminish the fierce handsomeness of his face. Her eyes dropped to his lips, those lips she wanted to smack clear off his face a thousand times in the past. They were curling now. Heat prickled along Bonnie's skin and made her scalp tingle. Ignoring it, Bonnie wanted to know how much he saw and if he tried to "touch" any of her goods like she caught him touching her boob.

Damon could read her like a book and knew she wanted to curse him out, but also didn't want to draw attention to the fact that she was in bed with him sans panties. She'd never be able to live it down, and he wouldn't let her.

"Is there something you want to say?" Damon taunted.

Plenty, Bonnie replied only she did so mentally. "Just…don't touch me, Damon."

Bonnie said it softly and to his ears it sounded more like an invitation. He never took his eyes away from hers. Damon could hear her heart beginning to speed, and felt her breath coming out in quicker spurts as it brushed against his face.

"The only time I'll touch you, Bonnie is if you ask me to."

Bonnie snorted and then rolled back over. She made sure the oversized t-shirt was securely wrapped around her body.

"That's never gonna happen," she said in that dry tone of hers.

Playing a hunch, Damon said, "I think I know what your problem is."

"Are you a therapist now? Are you going to try to bill me for services rendered? Not interested."

Damon laid back against his pillow, arms folded behind his head, eyes on the ceiling. Bonnie had her reasons to be perpetually angry, but he always got the sense that something else left her in knots. Finally it came to him that Bonnie didn't really know how to relax. She had a tendency to let things build, and then they exploded leaving her to deal with the aftermath. He had tons of ways and procedures to knock the monkey off one's back so to speak, but if he uttered a single one, Bonnie would crucify him.

Yet life had been nothing but taking chances for Damon.

"I can help you, Bonnie. I've gotten increasingly good at helping those around me."

Bonnie sighed. "Thank you for coming to look for me and providing a semi-decent roof over my head, Damon, and for…apologizing for ruining my life, but I don't want anything else from you."

Here was his moment of truth. "Are you sure, Bonnie? You are very tense. And mean, I might add."

She laughed. "Did I hurt Macho Damon's feelings?"

"No, believe it or not my feelings aren't hurt."

"Damon, I'm exhausted. I just want to go back to sleep."

"All right. But there _was _one nice thing I wanted to do for you."

There was silence from the other side of the bed.

"What?" Bonnie finally questioned after a full two minutes passed.

Sitting up in bed, exposing his torso, Damon stretched his arms over his head. "I can show you better than I can tell you."

Hearing that made Bonnie spring to a sitting position as well. Her eyes momentarily got lost along the way to his eyes as they did a detour to catalogue each abdominal muscle that was on full display. His pecks were amazing and Damon had cinnamon colored nipples which surprised her because she figured all of him would be white. Shaking her head once she realized what she was doing, a blush tinted her cheeks as she forced herself to make eye contact with him. As she suspected, Damon caught her ogling him.

Her blush spread out to incorporate her entire body.

She really should stop blushing, Damon's mind wondered. A beautiful rosy tint popped out all over her skin drawing his gaze first to her cheekbones, and then to her neck. Consciously he licked his lips.

Bonnie caught him ogling, and got mad all over again. "Whatever you have planned, you can forget about it. It's not that type of party."

"Oh, I know that and I wouldn't _dream _of going there with you."

Bonnie blinked. If she didn't know any better she would say that Damon just alluded to the fact he didn't find her physically or in his case sexually attractive. She couldn't explain why that bothered her. When everything was said and done, Damon was the last man she'd want lusting after her.

But it did make her wonder why he never attempted to make a pass at her.

Bonnie mentally shook herself. Those thoughts were treasonous. It didn't matter. In fact it would be better for her if Damon didn't find her attractive. She had been a witness to what happened to the ladies he called himself being attracted to.

Inwardly, Damon was cracking up. Bonnie looked ready to go off on him yet again but she was trying to keep her composure. He almost had her right where he wanted her.

"It doesn't matter what you were hoping to do, Damon. I'm not interested."

"You sure? This is the last time I'm going to put this offer on the table."

Bonnie looked him dead in his eye. "I'm sure."

He shrugged. "Okay then, have it your way." He turned over in bed and went right back to sleep.

Bonnie did so as well but her mind was burning. Just what exactly had he been offering since he never came out and said it. Bonnie could really kick in her own teeth sometimes.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Almost 30 pages broken down into three chapters and six scenes. I like a slow burn but with Bamon things can literally go from zero to sixty in three seconds. I want to take my time building this sucker up, but not too much. Thank you so much for reading and leaving me your thoughts. And what exactly was Damon preparing to offer? I'd love to hear your thoughts on that. Until next time. Love you guys!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Greetings and salutations. Hopefully someone, somewhere is still interested in seeing how this story develops. Enjoy.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Scene 7**

The awkwardness alone was palpable enough to strangle a horse, yet Bonnie tried to push all of that to the back of her mind. She woke up sore and stiff, her muscles protesting loudly as she squirmed to alertness on her side of the bed. Walking for hours on end and then getting into a physical altercation with a vampire made her feel older than eighteen, she felt ninety. And the hunger that flared deep in her belly almost knocked her to the floor when she climbed out of bed.

Moving her tongue around in her mouth she tasted nothing but cotton. That was good since she had no intentions on swapping spit with the vampire who was slowly waking out of his _la petite mort_. Wiggling her toes against the shag carpeting, Bonnie paraded over to her pile of clothes and grimaced. They were soiled and filthy and the last thing she wanted to do was put them back on. There was nothing more revolting than taking a shower and putting on dirty clothes; it kind of defeated the purpose of taking a bath.

Damon stretched his arms over his head, arched his back and felt the delicious pop of his bones realigning in his spine. He grunted when he turned his head to regard Bonnie.

They slept in the same bed and lived to tell the tale. Throwing the sheet off his legs he stood up.

Bonnie knew he was standing and avoided turning around. She didn't know what she might be graced with. Yeah, Elena told her about showing up at the boardinghouse one day when she got another tip about a Klaus/Stefan sighting when he disappeared last summer. Damon had heard her enter the house yet that didn't stop him from traipsing downstairs in his birthday suit to flash her his goods.

Thinking of that made Bonnie's cheeks flame. Damon really had no shame and the jury was out on whether she should admire that about him or hate him for it.

A replay of just a few hours ago slapped her upside the head. Damon's hand groped her boob. The same hand he used to snap her mother's neck. Bonnie felt her anger resurging yet she tramped it back down. Now wasn't the time for her to rehash all of that and what difference would it make in the long run? He apologized and almost sounded sincere. He didn't abandon her on the side of the road when he had every opportunity to do so. He didn't make her sleep in the car, but paid for their opulent dwellings. He had been more accommodating than Bonnie figured he'd ever be for anyone else, yet she wasn't sure how long his generosity or guilt would last.

Her reverie was interrupted when something went colliding into her shoulder. Immediately anger rushed through her veins, and she spun around to face him, ready to take his head off for throwing something at her, but Bonnie stopped. She looked down at the articles of clothing that was bunched around her feet.

It was a pair of Damon's clean clothes.

He entered the bathroom without giving her a chance to either refuse or accept them.

Picking up the bundle, Bonnie quickly stripped unsure of how much time she had before Damon came bursting out of the bathroom in a calculated move to try to get a glimpse of her goodies.

Naturally her mind traveled to earlier this morning and the offer Damon wanted to present to her. She didn't accept because Bonnie was sure he would say something rude and tactless because that was the kind of person Damon was. Bonnie was sure the thoughts that migrated in his brain were: Elena, blood, Stefan, sex, and more Elena. No one else factored into his thought processes and that's how he was able to do despicable acts to people without censor or consciences. So whatever "offer" he had in mind probably entailed something sexual and Bonnie wasn't here for that.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Bonnie had to get herself together. She couldn't keep doing this. She couldn't keep reminding herself of all she had lost or was taken from her as a result of her association with Damon Salvatore. If she did she was liable to set this entire motel on fire and there was no need putting the owner out of business nor endanger the lives of the other patrons because of her inability to not let Damon get under her skin.

And he was under her skin. Bonnie wasn't sure if there was anything strong or sharp enough to remove him at this point.

Nevertheless she dressed. Slid her arms into his button down and rolled up the sleeves, and did the same with the pair of jeans he loaned her. Thankfully she wore a belt with her jeans and promptly snaked it through the loops and fastened it so his pants wouldn't slide down her legs the moment she got to her feet.

By the time she was done, Damon came out of the bathroom, still not dressed.

Eyes downcast, Bonnie got up and walked into the bathroom. She didn't see Damon giving her a thorough perusal of her walking around in his clothes. They looked pretty good on her despite being way oversized.

Inside the bathroom, Bonnie brushed her teeth, washed her face, and did the best she could with her hair. Well, she didn't look completely like an extra from a horror film but it was infinitely better than how she looked yesterday.

Tentatively she opened the bathroom door. Damon was just stepping into his pants and she caught a little cheek action. Great, now she learned something else about him she didn't want to know—that he went commando, and that image would be engrained in her mind for God knows how long.

But if she wanted to be honest Bonnie could admit that he had a nice ass for a white guy.

With his back to the door, it was kind of hard for Damon to keep the knowing smirk off his face. He knew Bonnie got an eyeful just now. He buttoned his jeans and then deliberately turned around.

"Good morning."

His greeting caught Bonnie off guard and she gasped a little before pulling on her resolve. She marched out of the bathroom determined to ignore him.

"Morning," she mumbled and stuffed her items into her plastic suitcase.

"Checkout is in about twenty minutes. Do you have all of your precious belongings?" Damon questioned sarcastically.

Huffing, Bonnie forced herself to look at him—the shirtless blue-eyed devil. "Yes. Are we heading back to Mystic Falls?"

Damon didn't answer her question. He merely dug around in his bag and extracted another black shirt. He pulled it over his head and down his abs, and then shrugged.

Bonnie's eyes rolled. She wasn't in the mood to play twenty questions with Damon. Yet she didn't want to voice how much she didn't want to return to Mystic Falls. Her plan was to get away and stay away until it was time for her to start college, but even going to college was beginning to lose its appeal. Besides, earning an education wasn't going to help her stay one step ahead of her supernatural enemies. Bonnie could very well spend the rest of her life running. Running from her problems, her responsibility, her past, and her present.

Stuffing his feet in his boots, Damon grabbed his keys, walked past Bonnie and threw open the door to the hotel. He motioned with his head for her to precede him.

Well that was one area Bonnie couldn't fault him in. Damon invariably opened doors for her.

* * *

**Scene 8**

* * *

They stopped at a roadside diner and munched on a stack of pancakes coated in rich maple syrup, fluffy eggs, coffee brewed to perfection, and crispy bacon. They ate in silence, never made eye contact with one another, and were back on the road in under two hours.

"Thanks for breakfast," Bonnie remembered she had manners after all, yet it still left a vile taste in the back of her throat to have to thank him for anything.

"You're welcome."

Since he was the one doing the driving, Bonnie tried to watch the road signs to ascertain where they were going. From what she could tell they weren't heading south but north. When they passed a state sign that read: Welcome to New York, Bonnie snapped her head sharply to look at Damon.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"When you try to surprise someone it usually ends with their death. Just tell me where we're going, Damon."

"We're not going back to Mystic Falls," he responded plaintively.

"I can see that."

"Why do you need to know every damn thing, Bonnie? Will it add meaning to your life? Give you the cure to cancer? Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

"I have a question for _you_. Why didn't you drop me off at the first bus station you could find?"

Damon didn't answer her question because his phone began vibrating. He dug it out of his pocket and saw who was calling. He routed the call to his voice mail and resumed driving.

"Who was that?" Bonnie questioned.

"Stefan."

"Why didn't you answer?"

"Do you _want _to talk to Stefan because you know who he'll put on the phone the minute he hears your voice."

Bonnie sat back against the leather seat. "No, I don't want to talk to Stefan."

Damon hesitated before asking his next question. "Why don't you want to talk to Elena…or Caroline for that matter? I thought they were your best friends."

How could Bonnie explain that she hadn't felt close to her two best friends, well with the exception of Caroline, for a while? How could she put into words that all the sacrifices that were made to keep Elena alive, to ensure her mortality had all been in vain without sounding like a complaining brat? Because that's what everyone would accuse her of, of not being grateful that she still had Elena in her life even if she is a vampire. Even if she was, by nature's law, her enemy.

"They are my best friends but I need a break from them. I figured you'd want to get back to Elena as soon as possible, yet here you are toting me across state lines."

Damon snorted. "Contrary to popular belief my life doesn't revolve around Elena."

Bonnie's eyebrows arched. "Well this is news."

For his part, Damon ignored her sarcastic tone. "I'm sure you think I'm whipped."

"You are."

"But Elena doesn't control my life."

"She does. She asked you to find me, didn't she? You certainly weren't going to lift a finger to check under every rock to find me. Why would you? You don't care about me."

Damon's molars mashed on top of one another and began grinding. He was getting gotdamn sick and tired of people telling him how they thought he felt about something. Only he knew his mind. No one else. Only he was privy to his emotions, and sure he wore them on his sleeve sometimes because that was the human thing to do, and he had a tendency to lay all his cards out on the table when he knew he should have bluffed, but you live and you learn. But for anyone to assume to know what he felt on any given day, during any given time were seriously misinformed and out of touch.

Yet Damon was ready to turn the tables on her. He briefly took his eyes off the road to glare at Bonnie. "And what about you, Bon? Why did you alert the cavalry that I was doing an S&M role play with Rebekah and Klaus? You could have kept your mouth shut and let The Blondes do me in, but you didn't even after Klaus reminded you that I…killed your mom. Why the hell did _you _lift a finger to save my life? I've certainly done you no favors."

Bonnie's mouth opened to respond yet she shut it. That night she had been running off of emotions which unfortunately happened to be jumping all over the place. Being ambushed by Klaus, the threat to Jeremy's life, still smarting over Abby's transition and subsequent bolting technique, her brief stint into incestuous behavior, Bonnie felt her mind had been fracturing into pieces. Up was down, down was sideways, and everyone was out to get her.

Making that call, telling Elena where to find Damon, had been the final straw and she broke down. Unable to drive away from Klaus' lair of pain, glued to the spot. That night had been a painful reminder that no matter what, she would only be a tool to her friends and to her enemies. Controlled like a caged animal. And then discarded like garbage.

"It was a stupid decision," Bonnie finally admitted. "And maybe old habits die hard," she became reflective. "When the Jonathan Gilbert device went off and all the tomb vampires had been rounded up and thrown into that office, you with them, Stefan rushed inside knowing fire could kill him too. But he said something that made me stop and question if I was doing the right thing. He said, 'He's my brother, Bonnie'. I considered Stefan a friend, back then anyways, and maybe I lowered the flames so he wouldn't hate me, come after me if you died. Maybe I realized it wasn't your fault that Grams died. She knew the costs, yet she did that spell because she knew how important Elena was to me. Maybe she did it because she knew Stefan didn't deserve to be trapped inside. I don't know. Didn't get the chance to ask her."

Damon dropped his eyes, guiltily.

"I can't say why I told Elena. Maybe because as much as you might not like me, you would probably do the same thing for me. But that's purely speculation on my part."

"I would have."

Their eyes met over the console. Bonnie was the first one to look away.

This was ironic, Damon thought as he recalled telling Elena the night of the 60's decade dance that if the choice came down to her and Bonnie, he'd gladly let the witch die. Well he ate those words the night he killed Abby. He could have let Stefan do the honors and turn Bonnie, but Damon knew she never would have gone through with the transition and she would have died. Elena certainly would never forgive them for hurting Bonnie, and perhaps that was another reason why he went after Abby, to spare himself from losing another person he loved. It was selfish, and Damon didn't regret his decision to spare Bonnie that fate, but he did regret that it even had to boil down to flipping a coin and exalting one life over another.

"Why do you love Elena so much, Damon?" Bonnie asked.

That question surprised him so much Damon accidentally crossed over into the next lane. A car blew its horn and he resumed control over his vehicle.

"I don't know."

"You have no idea why you're willing and have tried to move heaven and earth for a girl that will never love you the way she loves your brother?"

_Ouch, _Damon thought. She sure didn't mince words, but then again, that had always been a part of their charm, being brutally and unfailingly honest with one another.

"She's nothing like Katherine or maybe she is when she's around you, I don't know. But why do you continue to put your all into something you know will never happen?"

"Never say never as Justin Bieber would say," Damon smiled although his sarcasm was forced to hide the fact that her questions were beginning to get to him. "I don't know, Bonnie. I'm a glutton for punishment. Why were you smooching all over your pseudo adoptive brother? That was the single most disturbing thing I've seen in my life, and trust me I've seen some shit, but that took the cake."

"Shut the _fuck_ up," Bonnie spat heatedly.

"You have no problem sticking your nose in my business, but then you want to become rude when I question your love interest tastes. That's not fair."

"Jamie…I don't want to talk about Jamie with you. He's out of the picture."

"Good. He wasn't right for you and neither was Gilbert Jr."

"Oh, really? So who is right for me? Klaus? Oh, wait he's now putting all of his energy into breaking up a high school couple. Kol? Nope, that won't work because he's a murderous asshole and I'm too strong and beautiful for him, and let's not forget I have a special disdain for vampires. Alaric is dead. But maybe I can date his ghost. I'm legal now."

At the conclusion of her tirade, Damon could do nothing more than chortle. "You do have one option left."

Bonnie looked at him, completely disinterested in what he had to say. "Who?"

"Me."

Bonnie laughed raucously. "Now there's a thought," she muttered derisively. "Sorry, but I'm not _that _desperate."

It took more effort than he thought it should not to feel offended. Yet Damon mustered on.

"When you look at us on paper, we make sense," Damon said aloud. In his mind he rolled out a laundry list of reasons why he and Bonnie could potentially work. They were used to getting the shaft in favor of others. Their love lives were a mess. They put their all into protecting the people they loved and cared about, and hardly got so much as a thanks in return. Shoot, when he thought of all this and realized how much they had in common on the surface, it started to freak him out a bit.

Damon never looked at Bonnie in a romantic sense. He had no reason to. He had eyes and knew she was a beautiful, sexy specimen on two legs; that went without saying, but honestly he never had the slightest inclination to pursue her.

His dalliance with Caroline had been about worming his way into Elena's inner sanctum. He picked her as being the weakest link and the most susceptible to his charm. Damon had identified with Caroline's pitiful need to be chosen over someone else, the golden one. He had gone through that with his father always favoring Stefan, everyone really, favoring Stefan over him. So he toyed with Caroline, crushed her self-esteem, and used her because life in small towns was horrifically boring and he needed some form of entertainment.

When he discovered that Bonnie's last name was Bennett he knew he couldn't play any kind of game with her or there'd be hell to pay.

"The only thing that makes sense between us Damon is when you're writhing on the ground in pain because I'm turning your brain into mush."

Damon switched on the radio and cocked a grin. "Stick around, little bird, and you might end up falling head over heels in love with me."

Bonnie leaned over the console. "Damon, drinking water out of the toilet isn't smart, and I suggest you stop because all you're talking is shit."

"That's a good one, Judgy. I might have to use that one day."

Bonnie was prepared to trade another snarky comment when she grew distracted by the fact Damon had pulled off the main highway and was now traveling down a deserted one lane road. Caution flags were waving wildly all over the place.

The trees loomed over the road giving Bonnie the feel that she was about to be swallowed whole or smothered. They drove down this road for about five miles until it opened up and before her was an imposing three story stone house.

The place kind of reminded Bonnie of an estate in the English countryside.

"Whose house is this?" Bonnie questioned as Damon pulled his car into the winding driveway.

Throwing the car into park, Damon climbed out. Bonnie followed suit. "It's mine," he finally answered.

He strolled up the front door and retrieved the key from a loose brick in the foundation. Damon unlocked the door and swung it open.

"Welcome to Rome, New York."

Chapter end.

**A/N: Yes, there really is a city called Rome in New York. I can't say how much time they will spend here, but probably a significant portion of the story will be based on their activities in New York. Slowly, but surely Bonnie and Damon are working out their differences (hence the title), but it doesn't mean things will be on the up and up with them. I hate saying I don't know when the next update will come, that all just depends on my muse, and she's hopping all over the place these days. But thanks for reading! Love you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here is the latest. Thank you to everyone who is following, added to your favorites, and has given me feedback. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Scene 9**

Her new accommodations were a step up in the right direction, Bonnie thought as she walked through the foyer of Damon's New York pad. Despite the fact there was a smell to the air that she couldn't name, and several of the baseboards in the floor looked loose and hazardous, with a good dust, mop, and sweep, the conditions would be habitable.

"When was the last time you were here?" Bonnie wondered. All of the furniture on the main level were covered with white tarps and covered with years of dust. Cobwebs hung from the rafters in the vaulted ceiling.

Damon looked around with a grimace on his face that matched Bonnie's. "Eighties, nineties can't really remember."

"Yeah would that be the 1880's or 1990's?"

Damon snorted under his breath and quickly did a check around the house to make sure it still had operating power. Thankfully the lights flicked on and stayed on without short circuiting. He soon learned that he needed a new refrigerator and stove. Several of the windows were fused shut due to lack of use over the years so it took some elbow grease on his end to open them. The house did come equipped with central air but unfortunately that wasn't working either.

Bonnie felt her oversized clothes sticking to her as the heat continued to rise in the house. Thankfully the house was in a shaded area, and there was a lake nearby, which she had full intentions of using once she bought several bathing suits that Damon was going to pay for. He didn't know that of course.

Damon told her there were four bedrooms total with a finished attic and basement. Climbing the stairs was an adventure to say the least after her right foot fell through a floorboard. That was loads of fun. Upstairs was in the same condition as the rest of the house. The walls needed a thorough cleaning and de-molding as well as a fresh coat of paint.

"Are you sure it's safe to stay here?" Bonnie questioned as she eyed the closed doors that led to the bedrooms skeptically. "I think fungus is beginning to grow on my lungs."

"The house needs a little work, I'll admit, but it isn't beyond repair. It'll only take a day, two tops to replace the stove, fridge, get the air going. Don't you know a spell to tidy up this place?"

Bonnie pursed her lips. "Do I look like Mary Poppins?"

He wanted to tell her she looked like Tina Turner from Mad Max but had a feeling that wouldn't go over so well. The humidity was doing something funky and creative with her hair that Bonnie was beginning to resemble a guitar player from a glam rock band.

"You can have any of the bedrooms except for the one down that end of the hall. That's my boudoir."

Rolling her eyes, Bonnie randomly picked a door, opened it, and shut it. There was a bat flying around in that one. She moved to the room across from the bat cave, saw it was in slightly better condition, and the bed looked welcoming.

"I'll take this one," she said and then strolled inside and began to write down a mental list of things she would need.

Bonnie walked over to the grime covered window and looked out. She had a view of the backyard that was overgrown and in serious need of landscaping. But it definitely brought about a sense of peace and serenity that had been missing from her life for years it seemed.

Damon observed her for a moment as she remained stationary in front of the window. He wondered what she might have been thinking; wondered if she were planning an escape at the first sign of him having his guard down. If she did steal off into the middle of the night, Damon wasn't under the slightest bit of obligation to find her and drag her back. He already did that once and as a result got the snot kicked out of him. It had been a while since a girl attempted to kick his ass. Other than Vampire Barbie and Rebekah, that had been it in terms of women trying to claw his eyes out.

Bonnie sensed that Damon was looming. She ignored him for as long as she could take it before turning to look at him over her shoulder. An auburn eyebrow rose questioningly.

"Did you need to tell me something else?" Bonnie asked.

Shifting on his feet, Damon was tempted to rub the back of his neck but he didn't. "No. I'll be back in a minute."

Alone again Bonnie wondered if it were smart for her to continue to reside under the same roof as Damon Salvatore. They had gotten along thus far but it didn't mean this weird harmony between them would last. She thought back to the "discussion" they were having in the car about their jacked up love lives, but more to the matter Damon said that he was an option when it came to her next romantic interest.

At first she was surprised he would even volunteer himself as an option. Damon made it no secret that he liked his women with loose morals, low self-esteem, and were unattainable. He was one of those men who chased after a lost cause simply because that was the purpose of their life. Bonnie didn't fall under _any _of those parameters except for being unattainable. And she was.

She had never been one of those girls who equated her self-worth with how many boyfriends she had or lovers. Besides she was young and didn't necessarily need a man in her life to provide stud services. That's what vibators and your fingers were for, was her philosophy. Not to say she was hating on those who were serial daters, and consummate lovers, to each his own, but for her she simply wanted to keep her life as stress free as possible.

Yet it did make her wonder why she didn't have a harem of would-be suitors like her two best friends. Elena, up until she met Stefan had loved one boy and that was Matt Donovan, but Bonnie could name ten guys who had a thing for Elena. During Valentine's Day her locker would be decorated with cards and flowers from her admirers. Elena would blush profusely, but she never let it get to her head—the attention, at least on the surface that's how she appeared. Bonnie may have been psychic but she was no mind reader but she wouldn't put it past Elena to bolster her own ego in knowing she was wanted by so many different guys from different walks of life.

Caroline who was a natural born competitor had her share of admirers growing up, but the number paled in comparison to Elena. Things didn't change or didn't become more overt until after she became a vampire. Caroline had human, werewolf, and hybrid paramours who would bend over backwards to make her happy.

And who did she have, Bonnie thought, she had the man-child Jeremy Gilbert, her best friend's little brother, who cheated on her with a ghost of all fucking things and…

Her pseudo adoptive brother. Bonnie could admit it was a mistake hooking up with Jamie. But she had been in a vulnerable state emotionally speaking. Learning that her mother abandoned her to keep her best friend's baby safe, and then having her mother who she just found and was slowly building a connection with viciously turned into a vampire, Bonnie had fallen off her rocker.

Jamie had been persistent in reaching out to her. He called every night once she returned to Mystic Falls, they Skyped one another, and little by little she felt there was someone in her life other than Caroline and on the rare occasion Elena, who gave a damn about her. Perhaps she skewered the lines of acceptable behavior by kissing Jamie like there was no tomorrow at the decades dance, but Bonnie just needed that emotional and physical contact with someone who thought she was amazing, and didn't demand anything from her by threatening the lives of those she loved.

Yet once she came down from her high and realized that it wasn't smart to date or hook up with the guy her mom basically chose to raise over her, Bonnie cut him loose. Besides, Jamie deserved to continue to live his normal boring life. She certainly didn't want him to be used as leverage by her enemies to get her to comply with their demands.

However, as she continued to think about that dark time in her life, she remembered trying to have a normal night with her girlfriends where she learned the night Damon killed Abby, that Elijah had left a written apology to Elena.

Did she get a "I'm sorry, my bad," from Elijah? Hell no and that was probably the last time Bonnie decided she would go to bat for her friends.

She saw herself standing in Elena's kitchen pouring a glass of lemonade as they were about to settle down to watch a movie.

Elena, naturally, behaved as if nothing was remiss, whereas Bonnie was trying not to see if she could decimate her friend's house into microscopic bits.

"You know," Elena began, "I didn't get to tell you that Elijah apologized for his part that night. The night Abby was…turned."

Bonnie nearly dropped her glass as she stared at her friend like she grew a second head. "When did this happen?"

"When I came home that night I found a note on my bed."

"Uh-hun."

"He said that he didn't want to be a monster but sometimes he does monstrous acts. I know everyone finds it hard to believe that Elijah is noble, that he does have a heart. He didn't deserve to be killed with the rest of his family; he just wanted to protect them."

Bonnie bit a corner of her lip. "Did…did he say he was sorry about what happened to Abby."

A somewhat guilty expression appeared on Elena's face. "N-no, he didn't say anything about her…."

"Then why the hell are you telling me that he took the time out his busy schedule to apologize to your ass, but he couldn't spare a single sentence of apology for what happened to my mother?"

Elena's mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "Bonnie, I'm sorry. I didn't think…"

Bonnie held up her hand. "That's your problem, Elena, sometimes you don't _think_ and that's the part about you which scares me." Pause. "I can't be here right now."

Elena had followed Bonnie into the living room and watched helplessly as her friend collected her coat and purse. Elena's intentions wasn't to dangle it in Bonnie's face that Elijah apologized to her, but to show that he didn't deserve the same fate as his siblings because underneath his hard exterior he really was just another lost soul trying to find his place in the world, and to make amends for living up to the negative stereotypes surrounding his kind. Okay, so she could have kept that tidbit of news to herself that Elijah really only apologized to her, but…

"Bonnie, please don't go."

"Why should I stay?"

Elena licked her lips and thought for a moment. Bonnie noticed her hesitation and let Elena off the hook once again by stomping down the stairs and jumping in her car.

In the present, Bonnie knew it was time for her to change not only her attitude but her lease on life. She didn't want to become one of those people who only did for others who did for her, but now she was training her mouth to say, "No!" and "Fuck you, too."

She jumped when Damon reappeared in the room. He dropped two stacks of bills on the bed as well as a pair of keys.

"What's this?" Bonnie kept her eyes on the money. She was probably looking at two thousand dollars. "You just keep large sums of money tucked away in the walls of all your homes?" she questioned flippantly.

Damon shrugged. "Pretty much. Let's just say after the stock market crashed in 1929 I grew paranoid about keeping my money in banks. But it's yours. You need clothes, stuff for your room, other chick items I don't even want to think about."

"And the keys?"

"Well, I'm not going to drive you around for the rest of the summer. There's a Mustang in the garage. I just checked the engine. It still runs. You'll need to stop and fill her up. Here are directions to town."

Damon handed Bonnie a piece of notebook paper. This was her first time seeing his handwriting. He had pretty elegant script. It was far better than hers.

"Thanks," Bonnie said feeling bemused. She looked up at him, the sunlight hitting him right in the eyes. "Are you going to be here when I get back?"

"Maybe, probably, haven't decided. Catch you later."

And he was gone again.

Bonnie stared at the keys, the cash, and the room already calculating how much it would take to fill the closet and dresser up with clothes, shoes, accessories. She counted off nothing but hundreds and slid eight of them into the front pocket of her borrowed jeans. The rest she stuffed under the mattress, not the most creative place, but whatever.

Walking outside, she found the garage and inside was a 1996 Ford GT Mustang in black of course. The engine purred like a kitty and Bonnie was off getting to know her new surroundings.

**Scene 10**

Damon balanced his cell between his cheek and shoulder as he stripped the old, soiled linens from his king sized bed. Several times he rolled his eyes, yawned, and pretended to hang up on Stefan as he listened to rant after rant on how Damon should have consulted with the others on how to handle Bonnie.

Was she suddenly a time bomb? Damon didn't think so but then again he didn't know everything and had been proven wrong on several occasions much to his chagrin.

"What do you want me to say, Stefan?"

"Just tell us where you are, Damon. Why are you being so difficult and secretive about this whole thing? Did you do something to her?"

Damon growled. "Look," he said sharply, "I know I've done some fucked up things in my past, but give me _some _credit. I already told you that Bonnie is safe. If she wants everyone to know where she is, she'll call and tell you herself. Until said time comes, stop calling and texting me."

"Damon, wait-,"

And the vampire in question promptly hung up his phone and flung it somewhere. Bonnie had been gone for the better part of the day. The sun was lowering in the horizon and she should be making her way back to the cottage, that is if she hadn't gotten lost.

Several times Damon asked himself why didn't he drop Bonnie off at the first bus station he saw? What would propel him to drive all the way to his safehouse in New York with a young woman who would just as soon see him dead rather than spend any amount of time with him? Maybe because he didn't want to return to Mystic Falls. What would be the purpose? To watch Elena and Stefan act like the perfect vampire couple and simper all over one another. No thanks. To constantly put his life on the line for people he rather just eat than protect.

At least with Bonnie Damon knew there wouldn't be any dull moments.

The sound of the Mustang rolling back on the property caught his attention. He paused in trying to make his bedroom presentable and headed to the front door. By the time he got there, Bonnie had popped the trunk and was taking out several large shopping bags.

"Need some help?" he offered.

Bonnie shrugged. Damon noticed almost at the last second that the jeans and shirt he loaned Bonnie had been replaced with a knee-length floral summer dress. Strappy sandals decorated her feet, as huge Kim Kardashian inspired sunglasses covered her eyes.

Damon peeked inside the trunk and saw Bonnie made a stop at almost every single women apparel store in town. She had also paid a visit to Bed, Bath, & Beyond. Damon reminded himself to put that on his list of places to stop within the next few days.

What Bonnie couldn't carry he grabbed the rest so they wouldn't have to make another trip to the car.

"Where do you want these?"

"You can just dump them on the floor."

Damon did as instructed and then wondered if he should tell her about his conversation with Stefan. Damon figured it would be best to just get it out in the open because he and Bonnie never really censored themselves with each other before. There was no need to do so now.

"So, Stefan called me," Damon kept his cyan eyes on Bonnie as she pulled out dress after dress with the hangers still attached.

"Oh, really? What did he want? Nope, let me guess. He wanted to know if you found me and if so, did you kill me."

A lopsided grin formed on Damon's face. "You know us so well, Judgey."

"Well it's written in _The Art of War _to know your enemy better than you know yourself."

"You still consider me an enemy?"

Bonnie cast her eyes on Damon, pointedly looked at him from head to toe and back again. "It depends on the day of the week. There's something about Thursdays that makes me detest your guts."

Damon laughed. "You shouldn't flirt with me, Bonnie, it could be bad for your health."

"You call this flirting?"

"No, I call this word sparring and you've always been my favorite partner."

"Should I consider myself blessed that you favor me in something?" Bonnie winked.

Damon wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad wink or if there were such things as good and bad winks. He didn't come down with a sense of foreboding as if in the very near future he might be gripping both sides of his head in pain.

"What day is it?" he pondered and held a finger up to his chin.

Bonnie's grin stretched even farther. "It's Thursday."

"Hmm," Damon mumbled as if he were in deep thought. "Maybe I can deflect your special disdain for me on Thursdays to another day of the week by offering to have dinner catered since the stove is busted."

"Are you trying to worm your way into my heart through my stomach like a parasite?"

Damon pressed her with a knowing look. "I'm a leech not a parasite. An incubus if you want to be technical about it."

"Well," Bonnie said and balled up one bag and chucked it before digging into another, "I can't ever accuse you of not having a clear sense of self."

When she looked up again, Damon was looming on top of her.

"There is more to me, you know," the older Salvatore confessed allowing his eyes to take its own road trip over Bonnie's curves that were hidden from view.

Bonnie was tempted to take a step back and establish a neutral zone, but she didn't. "There's more to everyone, Damon. I'm sure Ted Bundy was a genius."

It was hard not to laugh and Damon came to the startling realization that Bonnie was the only person capable of getting him to laugh, genuinely. He spent so much of his time laughing _at_ people rather than with them. He took a step away from her. Already he felt he was blurring certain lines between them, and in the long run it would just be best if he kept himself as that one-dimensional caricature Bonnie had formed in her head concerning him.

He cleared his throat and Bonnie frowned a bit when she noticed the change in him.

"Do you have a taste for anything?" he asked.

"Not really. I had a late lunch so I'm not starving, but whatever you decide, I'll eat. Believe it or not I'm not picky when it comes to food."

The question: what was she picky about was on the tip of his tongue, but Damon swallowed it back down. He figured he might as well leave now since they were being cordial.

"I'll let you finish unloading your stuff."

Bonnie kept up her activity as Damon left her room, but the minute she was alone, she plopped down on the edge of the bed and then reached over to her new Nine West shoulder bag. She pulled out her new cell phone since her other one had been stolen when she was mugged. Hitting the power button, her finger froze over the contact icon. Did she want to talk to anyone from Mystic Falls? Not really, but the least she could do was send a text to Caroline and let her know she was okay.

_Hey, I'm safe. Damon is behaving himself. For now. TTYL._

It wasn't adequate and didn't offer a slew of apologies for not reaching out sooner. Not two seconds later she received a response text followed by another.

_Where r u?_

_Please call._

They read. Bonnie wanted to hear the sound of Caroline's raspy and bossy voice, but she couldn't make herself hit the call button and connect their lines. She just needed a few more days to be on her own, to miss her friends, because right now, she was enjoying being away far too much. And she knew Caroline would take it personally if Bonnie said she didn't want to come home.

_I love u. _Bonnie typed and then turned off the phone.

Looking around her new digs there was just too much to do in one night. But Bonnie hosed the bed down in Lysol disinfectant spray, changed the sheets, hung up her clothes in the closet, would wait until she could scrub out the dresser before dumping her bras and panties into the drawers. She had purchased some candles from Yankee Candle Company, placed them strategically around the room before lighting them.

The last thing she extracted was a small desk sized circulating fan. This would have to do until the air conditioning was up and running.

Bonnie hopped in the shower, thankful the water wasn't polluted with rust and other unsavory things, changed into another cotton dress, and slapped her hair into a ponytail. She would have to find a hair dresser soon.

When she finally emerged from her room, she heard the sounds of Luciano Pavarotti blasting and the smell of five cheese ziti, and garlic bread calling her name. Bonnie's stomach growled and drool dribbled down her chin, not really, but that's what it felt like.

She found Damon had laid out dinner on the coffee table in the great room. A bottle of plum wine waited to be cracked open, which he wasted no time picking it up and popping the cork.

"You don't mind eating in here do you? I learned the hard way that the dinning room table needs to be replaced."

"How did you discover that?" Bonnie asked and then folded her frame to sit on a huge toss pillow.

Thankfully Damon lost the ability to blush. "Sat down on a chair, and propped my feet on the table and both collapsed. Either I gained weight or the table was a victim of termites."

"Oh, lovely," Bonnie suspiciously began to eye the hardwood floor. She pulled her plate closer to the edge of the table and picked up her fork. Her eyes flicked to Damon who was busy filling a red plastic cup with wine. This was high class all the way, but they were simply making the best of a terrible situation.

Damon sat down and dug into his food, not with as much enthusiasm as Bonnie since human food wasn't on the top of his food pyramid. He and Bonnie ate in silence, listened to the sounds of the great Italian opera singer.

After she was done stuffing her face, Bonnie pushed her empty plate away, gulped down her wine, and then started playing with the split ends of her ponytail.

"What are you going to do for the rest of the night?" inquired Bonnie.

Damon shrugged a brawny shoulder. "I might go out and get myself a late night snack," he wiggled his eyebrows.

He earned a glare for that comment.

"Oh, come on, Bon, you've been around me long enough to know that I do still like to take a bite out of people every once in a while. If I don't, I'm liable to waste an entire block."

"Yeah, well I'm tired of sounding like a broken record," Bonnie got to her feet. "Do what you want."

Damon's eyes almost popped out their sockets. He couldn't believe that self-righteous, human activist Bonnie Bennett wasn't going to make a threat nor lift a finger to reprimand him for hunting people. He must have stumbled into an alternate reality.

"Okay, what have you done with the _real_ Bonnie Bennett you android?"

Bonnie scratched her arm while answering, "I kind of wish I was an android on some days. But…what's the point in me telling you a grown man not to go out and bite people? You seldom listen to me or to anyone and you're going to do what you like so…have at it."

Damon allowed Bonnie to take two steps away before he said, "I do…listen to you, Bonnie."

She didn't turn to face him, but remained where she stood facing the staircase. "Why? My opinion shouldn't matter to you."

"It shouldn't but it does. Why? I haven't figured it out yet," he appeared confused by that.

Bonnie shifted to face him then, yet it was hard for Damon to read the emotion in her eyes. "What game are you playing at, Damon?"

He was thrown by the question—more like accusation. "I'm not playing any game with you. Why are you always so suspicious of me?"

"Because you've given me no reason not to be. You say one thing and do another. You tell me that what I say matters to you but then you go and…" Bonnie stopped herself and rubbed her eyes. "I'm not going down this road. I'm tried. I'm going to lay down. Have fun tonight."

Damon remained parked on his tush as Bonnie made her way upstairs. With Luciano belting out one haunting melody after another in his ear, Damon wondered why he was putting so much effort in trying to get Bonnie to see him in a different light. What purpose would it serve? Bonnie had already proven she would do what was necessary to keep his worthless ass alive and in lieu of thanking her for all the personal sacrifices she had to make, he mocked her with sarcasm and indifference.

As much as they might engage in playful banter Bonnie hadn't forgotten what he did to her mother. Sighing and scrubbing a hand across his face, Damon left their remnants from dinner on the table and went outside.

Yeah, this was going to be one wild and crazy summer.

**Scene 11**

Bonnie groaned and grabbed her stomach. She flipped on her back, bit her lips until her teeth almost sank into them. Her eyes flew open and she tried to stifle the scream that wanted to rip from her very soul.

She thought she had gotten past this stage. The cramping, the spasms, the vertigo, and nausea, but it was back and with a vengeance it seemed. Slowly, Bonnie sat up in bed, the room swam around her and she clutched the sheets to keep herself centered.

"Breathe," she ordered herself but her lungs were not in the mood to cooperate. Her throat felt like it was closing in, and then, she arched awkwardly against the bed as another spasm racked her body.

Somehow she landed on the floor and started shaking.

Damon burst into her bedroom and saw Bonnie writhing on the ground. From what he could tell it seemed Bonnie was either being possessed by something or she was having a seizure. He kneeled down beside her and tried to get control of her flailing limbs so she wouldn't hurt herself.

He didn't know what the hell to do.

Damon wasn't sure if there was much truth in a person swallowing their tongue when having a seizure but he wasn't willing to find out. So he pried Bonnie's mouth open and then stuffed his wrist inside. Her teeth sank into him and he winced but otherwise wrapped his legs around hers and held her as tightly as possible without snapping her bones.

Her spasms lasted another two minutes before she settled down. Tears rolled from her eyes, and thankfully she didn't bite clean through his skin. Damon removed his wrist from her mouth, and laid Bonnie in the recovery position on the floor. He did know that much.

He smoothed her hair, wet with sweat from her forehead. Her skin was piping hot.

"Bonnie?" Damon asked to try and see if she were coherent. "Say something."

She cried and curled herself into the fetal position.

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" To Damon that sounded like a dumb question with a very obvious answer.

Bonnie shook her head and tried to sit up, but her arms were shaking too badly. Damon helped her, lifted her bridal style from the floor and deposited her on the bed.

"How long have you've been having seizures?"

"A while."

Damon marched into the connecting bathroom, grabbed a frilly towel Bonnie purchased earlier and jabbed it under the sink faucet. He returned and pressed it against her forehead.

"What's a while?" a tick began to hammer away at his jaw.

Bonnie stared at him sheepishly, "Five months."

"_Fuck,_" Damon exclaimed.

"Yeah, I know, but here's the best part…I'm dying, Damon."

Chapter end.

**A/N: Please, don't hate me for the ending. I don't plan this to be a death fic or anything along those lines. I've read a couple of spoilers concerning Bonnie and about her receiving more consequences for saving her friends, while everyone else gets to skirt by unscathed. I really need to quit this show before it gives me high blood pressure if it hasn't already. But I want to explore the physiological effects doing heavy duty spells like the ones Bonnie's been forced or has chosen to perform to keep everyone alive. I know in the movie The Covenant "the power", "force" whatever it was called (can't remember) became a witch's life. And the more you use the faster you age, breakdown, stop functioning. I don't know what consequences Bonnie will face on the show, she's already being punished enough by the company she keeps, I want to simply delve into what's happening inside her body and how Damon will try to help her. So let me know what you think. Love you guys!**

***Special note, I'm no medical doctor so please, if you see someone having a seizure don't do what Damon did and call the paramedics. Okay, cool. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So I'm back earlier than expected. Yea! Thank you to everyone who left me your feedback, added to your faves or alert list, or you're just reading this as it unfolds. You guys keep this story fresh in my mind. So thank you!  
**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW network. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Scene 12**

There were many battles Damon was prepared to face. If he found himself suddenly plunged into Middle Earth ready to fight orcs and Sauron his himself, he was ready. However, what he wasn't ready for, what he wasn't prepared to do battle against was dealing with the truth that someone he used for his own gain, who for a time was a grudging ally, someone he betrayed in the worst way, was dying.

On the surface, aside from her green pallor and the dark circles under her eyes, Bonnie Bennett looked perfectly healthy. She was propped up against a stack of pillows watching him as he paced back and forth in front of her bed.

"Are you sure?" he asked again for the millionth time it seemed in the hour he had been in her room.

Bonnie's answer never changed no matter how many times he asked. "The specialist I saw said there's nothing they can do for me. I have a malignant brain tumor and it's inoperable. There's no way of determining if it had been there way before I started using magic or it's a consequence of delving into dark magic."

"How long?" Damon asked through gritted teeth.

"Am I expected to live?" Bonnie didn't supply an answer until Damon nodded in the affirmative. "Three months, maybe more maybe less."

"Christ," Damon ran his hands through his hair and then stopped. Without second-guessing his actions, he brought his wrist up to his mouth and tore into his skin until blood gushed from the wound. He jabbed the offering towards Bonnie. "Drink."

Bonnie stared at his bleeding wrist for a second and brought her eyes up to him. "No."

"What?"

"I said, no, Damon. Besides, I've tried that."

He pulled his wrist away. "From who?"

"Tyler."

"When?" Damon's eyebrows were so mashed together he appeared to have a uni-brow.

"Before his body was taken over by Klaus, obviously. It didn't work. I didn't tell him what it was for."

"So you're just going to accept death?" he was trying so very hard not to yell at her for being stupid and giving up on her right to live. Bonnie had made it a point to harp in his ear about not going against someone's choice. Yet here she was about to lay down and let death have its wicked way with her. He couldn't accept that.

"Don't be stupid about this, Bonnie. There's gotta be another way out of this."

"What other way, Damon? Treatment is expensive as hell and all its going to do is drag out the problem not offer up a solution. I've made my peace with it…"

He was in her face in a minute, breathing down her neck. "You don't make peace, Bonnie, you fuck shit up. That's what you do. You have never and I mean _never _thrown in the towel even when you knew you were going to lose. Why are you so hell bent on dying, on not doing everything in your power to live?"

"Why the hell do you care what I decide to do with my life, Damon? You have no fucking right to lecture me of all people on what to do. If it hadn't been for you and your stupid brother asking me for this and that spell none of what's happening to me would be happening. Maybe if I never became friends with Elena, maybe if my family never moved back to Mystic Falls, I could be living a nice boring and stable life somewhere else. But these are the cards I've been dealt and this is how I'm choosing to play the game. I'm not asking you to like it. I could really careless what you think. But what I just shared with you stays between us."

Damon pulled away from her so sharply like she suddenly caught on fire, and ignored the guilty pang that sliced through him at her accusation that he and Stefan were to blame for her condition.

"Its official you have lost your mind if you think I'm going to keep something this _big _from Caroline, Elena, Matt, and yes my stupid brother. They care about you, Bonnie. They deserve to know what's going on."

Bonnie snorted. "Where's that selfish Damon who was willing to keep my secret? Oh, I get it. You'll only keep my secret if it inadvertently involves Elena's life."

"Don't fucking go there with me. This has nothing to do with my feelings or lack thereof for Elena."

"Yeah, that tumor must be spreading if I'm hearing things properly. Now all of a sudden how Elena feels about something doesn't faze you? Doesn't concern you?"

"That's not funny, Bonnie, don't joke about that," he said in reference to her tumor.

"You want to know what's funny? You are," she stabbed her finger in his direction. "I'm supposed to believe that you want me to live and fight this when you've spent so much of your time going around pontificating how much you could give a shit about human life? My life in particular. I would say you're the one with a tumor eating away at his brain."

Damon pinched the bridge of his nose. This going back and forth and hurling insults and accusations was getting them nowhere. He could see why Bonnie was doing this one) out of anger, two) out of defeat, and three) as a defense mechanism.

He softened his tone when he spoke again. "I know I haven't given you any reason to buy into anything I'm saying, but…if it hadn't been for you I'd be dead and I owe you, Bonnie."

"I don't want your pity, Damon."

"And I ain't offering it. I respect you too much to pity you."

Bonnie snorted once more. "You respect me?" the words tasted foreign on her tongue simply because of who she was addressing. "You have a funny way of showing it."

Groaning, Damon went back to pacing. "Look, I know there's no way in hell I'll ever be able to live down what I took from you, but…I just want to help you."

Bonnie studied him for a moment. Damon wasn't that good of an actor so the distressed look on his face was authentic, and she was well aware of the fact he had an extremely volatile personality. Yet she had never been on the receiving end of any kind of passion outside of snark, cynicism, and mockery from Damon. This was throwing her for a loop, it went without saying, that he would be so adamant in getting her to take a personal inventory of her life and fight for it. But Bonnie was tired of fighting and that was the whole point he was missing.

"You want to help me, Damon?"

Her question stopped his pacing and he refaced the bed. He waited impatiently for the other shoe to drop.

"You can leave so I can go to sleep. That's how you can help me."

Damon pursed his lips. Truth of the matter was, after being a witness to her having a seizure letting Bonnie out of his sight was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. But he wasn't going to curl up on the floor like an obedient dog at his master's side. Part of him felt he had already pushed Bonnie too far on the subject and effectively closed the door to a possible intervention from the Scooby-Doo gang. Yet there was one final thing pestering him that he was going to get an answer to.

"If you want to die, that's on you, but why do you want to die alone?"

Well, that question certainly took Bonnie off guard. Annoyingly her eyes filled with tears yet she threatened them not to fall.

"You haven't noticed?" her voice was small and child-like. "I've been alone since Grams died. You all never paid any attention to me until you needed me for something, and I jumped at the chance to help because it made me feel useful, a part of the group. But then, when the show was over and the credits were rolling, I was flung back into my broom closet waiting for my next summons. I allowed it. I'll take my part of the blame for letting things get so out of control, and this is the price I'm paying for not sticking up for myself sooner."

"Bon…"

The young woman in question frowned as she felt a sliver of blood begin to leak from her nose.

"Damn it," Bonnie cursed long and loud as she tried to stifle the flow of blood with her fingers. Damon stood frozen for a moment before he thought to move and assist her, but Bonnie jerked away from him.

Damon pressed his lips together, picked up the face cloth and applied it to her nose.

"I got it," Bonnie muttered irritably.

"Your little ass needs to go to a hospital."

"No hospitals!"

"All right, then you're going to have to take a hit of my blood. You know that thing called compromise?"

Bonnie glared at him. "Are you going to snap my neck afterwards?"

Now he was pissed. "I will if you keep talking like that." Damon brought his wrist up to his mouth, but Bonnie shunned him.

"I'll be fine. Just give me a minute. This usually…happens…after," Bonnie couldn't look at him as she explained the situation feeling vulnerable and wide open.

Of course, being of the stubborn breed himself, Damon wasn't going to leave until he had his blood swimming around in her system. His teeth sank into his skin, blood flowed.

"Take it."

Bonnie tucked in her lips.

"I have other ways of getting my blood in you," Damon taunted.

"Just try it, Damon, and see what happens. Can you please go? I am really, _really _tired."

The immortal and the witch locked and held gazes until Damon shuffled to the door. He paused before exiting.

"This isn't over," he vowed.

Damon shut the door behind him.

**Scene 13**

The sound of buzzing, hammering, yelling, and stomping roused Bonnie from sleep. Sunlight poured into the room blinding her. She winced against the intrusive light, and pulled her newly purchased bed covers up over her eyes. Was this supposed to help with her condition? Being woken up at the ass crack of dawn by the shouts and hollers of what sounded like a legion of men? By having her illicit dreams cut short by the sound of an electric saw? By the time she got on her feet someone would be dead.

Her body felt heavy, her head fried, scrambled and served sunny side up as Bonnie dragged herself out of bed. The room was pleasantly chilly. The air conditioning must have been repaired Bonnie thought as she made her way to the window.

Peering out she caught sight of a shirtless Damon Salvatore perched on a riding lawnmower tackling the overgrown backyard. Their conversation, more like argument played over in her mind. He had no right to try to tell her how to handle this situation. His opinion didn't matter, Bonnie repeatedly told herself; however, she knew deep down that he was right.

This was too big of a secret to keep from her friends. Bonnie placed herself in their shoes and knew she would be extremely vexed if Caroline or Elena were dying from some terminal illness and they never breathed a word of it to her. Yet the sanctity that used to be between them was almost non-existent. Caroline and Elena had gotten to experience things Bonnie was excluded from. She never got to ride on a float wearing period clothing and wave to the spectators. She never got to experience being adored and obsessively loved—by anyone. No one had taken the time out of their schedule to enlist a motley crew of supernatural's just to keep her alive.

The list could go on and on about the things Caroline and Elena got to experience but it was all counterproductive. Bonnie knew her life had value. If she couldn't place value on her own life how could she possibly expect anyone else to do so as well?

But this was her fight.

Her eyes never left Damon as she thought on all of this, but she still wasn't sure what her next move would be. She didn't want to die. And not alone, but on the flip side, she was exhausted from always being the ace up the sleeve, the wild card, the savior of all that was unholy. Bonnie just wanted a break from it all.

Damon rode that lawnmower cursing the fact it couldn't go any faster than it presently was. He needed to do something to distract his mind off the conversation he had with Bonnie. So as soon as he heard the first bird chirping away outside, he was up and on his feet and started contracting out repairs that needed to be done to the house. He was glad his name still had clout in this area because otherwise he would have been waiting until late afternoon or a couple of days for the plumber, central air technician, landscapers, and other home repairmen to get here.

Bonnie was being high strung and stubborn, qualities he had come to admire about her, but she could be just as frustratingly difficult as Elena. Between the two of them, he would say that Elena won hands down every time since the girl couldn't make a good decision to save her life. Pun intended. Yeah, Bonnie might want to place the blame of her illness solely on his shoulders, but he was not the only one she should be pointing her little finger at.

Maybe it was juvenile and distasteful on his part to tell a dying woman who she should be casting stones towards, but Damon didn't know how to proceed. He killed people. He didn't save their lives, and anytime he tried to intervene in the past it always bit him in the ass in the end i.e. when he saved Caroline and Tyler from being sacrificed, Tyler bit him and infected him. Go figure.

That's why he left being the romantic hero to chumps like Stefan.

Still it pestered him like a rash that Bonnie would just die and not permit him to help her. But then again, other than giving her blood, what could he really do? Damon hadn't been able to save Rose, and instead did her in with a mercy kill. He did the same with Alaric, allowing him to die with dignity instead of just ripping out his heart.

For a while Damon would admit he lost sight of himself. He changed, or allowed Elena to mold him in certain areas because he foolishly thought that was the way inside of her heart. Yet he never stopped to consider that when he lowered his wall and allowed her to get a glimpse into his soul, that's the part of him she found herself attracted and drawn to. Not being the veritable asshole, the cocky dick who thought he was better than slice bread. But Damon felt he was being compromised by Elena and did everything in his power to show her he wasn't Stefan and he was never going to be, and if she couldn't accept him as is then why the hell was she so persistent on allowing him to remain in her life.

Damon ran over a tree stump and heard the sound of one of the blades bending. Cursing, he shut off the machine, climbed off, and then looked under it to see how much damage his carelessness caused.

He was becoming pathetic to allow two teenaged girls to run his life like this. If Bonnie wanted to die, fine so be it, she could die. If Elena wanted to fuck with his emotions and feelings for the rest of eternity, fine so be it, she could suck it. Only he was in control of his responses and Damon was close to remembering what it felt like not to give a damn.

And just as he was about to beat the stupid lawnmower for breaking, he heard a blood curdling scream from inside the house.

He rushed off like a prize winning horse, naturally moving way too fast for the humans milling about to notice, which they probably hadn't since electric saws were buzzing, and hammers were pounding down the walls. Damon arrived at Bonnie's bedroom in record time and saw her clutching a towel to her chest as she hurled items at one of the construction workers heads.

"Get out!" she railed.

"Hey, lady calm down. I was just doing a room check. I didn't see nothing."

"What the hell is going on?" Damon asked in a booming authoritative voice.

The construction worker whirled around in his Tim's and stared at Damon with wide, guilt filled eyes. He began stuttering while explaining what he was doing in Bonnie's room.

"This pervert was sitting on the bed when I came out of the shower."

"Wait! No! That's not what happened," the man exclaimed.

"So are you calling her a liar?" Damon crossed his arms over his chest.

"No, please, man I need this job. If I get fired my wife's going to kill me."

Damon cocked his head to the side as a sign of his interest being piqued. "Why don't I take that load off your wife's hands?"

All color left the construction worker's face as he saw nothing but lethal intent in Damon's silver-blue eyes.

Damon's arm snapped out lightning fast as he placed the man in a chokehold. He pulled the man closer, never breaking eye contact with him. "Go drown yourself in the lake."

"Damon," Bonnie reproached knowing he was compelling the man.

The vampire in question rolled his pretty little eyes. "Fine," he pulled the man closer to whisper something in his ear.

Bonnie watched as the man wondered off and then the next thing she heard was the curses of a man who just flung himself down a flight of stairs.

"I guess he won't be reporting to work anytime soon. Hey, don't look at me like that. I told him not to kill himself but at least break a bone or two or all," Damon grinned and vacated the room.

Holding her towel together tightly in her hands, Bonnie's eyes went heavenwards as she stomped back into the bathroom and slammed the door.

**Scene 14**

**Mystic Falls, Virginia **

Caroline couldn't take this anymore. Not knowing where her friend was, was driving her up the wall. Twice she thought about consulting Klaus/Tyler, and twice she backed out of going to him and asking for his help. She knew if she retained his services Klaus would expect some kind of payment that Caroline had no intentions of paying—ever. Pacing back and forth in her bedroom, slapping her cell phone in the palm of her hand, she was at her wits end in willing it to ring.

"Hey Care, I got here as soon as I could," Elena floated in the room. "What's up?"

Caroline stopped her pacing. "We have to do something about Bonnie. Other than the text message she sent me yesterday she hasn't answered any of my phone calls. Damon is being tightlipped on giving up their location…what if she's in trouble? What if Damon never really did find her and he's just trying to stall us?"

Nibbling a corner of her lip Elena had thought the same as well. Damon never made it a secret that he liked working alone because he had serious trust issues, but she was certain that if he did find Bonnie he would have returned her home as soon as possible. Unless…

Bonnie adamantly protested in coming home and Damon was honoring her wishes.

Elena gulped. She didn't want to believe that Bonnie would much rather travel the open road with her sworn enemy than come back to the people who cared and loved her. Yet, placing herself in Bonnie's shoes and dealing with all the pain and loss she suffered this past year, could she really blame Bonnie for leaving?

Elena approached Caroline and the two of them stood facing one another. "We're going to find her, but for now…maybe we should just give her some space."

Caroline rocked on her bare feet. "If its space she wants, fine she can have it, but the least she can do is call and tell us she's okay and wants to be left alone."

"I know, Care," Elena nodded. "But if we keep pushing this…we run the risk of losing her for good. Let's give it more time."

"How much time? School starts next month. You're going away to Whittemore, and I'll be off to UVA, and Bonnie…where is she going to be?"

Elena didn't have an answer. "I don't know, Caroline."

**Scene 15**

**Rome, New York**

The upgrades to the house took nearly a week to accomplish. And during that time, Bonnie and Damon maintained their distance from one another, and only spoke to each other until it became vitality important and avoidance just wasn't possible. Anytime Damon tried to bring up her illness, Bonnie would either leave the room or switch the subject. Plenty of times he tried to spike her food and drink with his blood, but Bonnie nabbed him every single time and almost put him through a wall for his underhandedness.

She couldn't take being cooped up in the house with him, so Bonnie found herself a part time job working as a sales associate at a privately owned boutique in downtown Rome. Working three days a week for six or more hours certainly improved her attitude, and Bonnie got the opportunity to build another set of skills that had little to do with reciting tongue twisting Latin.

Admittedly this was her first paying job. Typically how she used to supplement her income was by taking the occasional babysitting job, but keeping little tikes in line lost its appeal the minute Bonnie's fuse became exceedingly short, and she had to worry about keeping grown men from acting like spoiled brats. It was a campaign that regrettably wasn't always successful.

What Damon did between the hours she worked, Bonnie wasn't sure and she didn't ask questions. Normally as she would be getting in, he would be getting ready to go out. There were several bars near her place of business, and though she was eighteen, she couldn't frequent them. She did discover there was a small bistro that catered to the college crowd. Bonnie hadn't worked up the nerve to check it out just yet. Mystic Falls had been such a huge security blanket that she was finding it a little problematic to break out of the mindset that everyone knew her and she knew everyone.

Here she was an enigma, a mystery, a new face. Besides what would be the point in her trying to make new friends? She would be dead soon enough and there was no point in making new attachments she would only have to break when her body would turn against her, and she wouldn't even have the energy to get out of bed to pee.

It was August now. Damon gunned down the streets on his newly purchased Harley. He and the witch had been living in dysfunctional harmony for four weeks now. Stefan called him at least twice a week asking for a status update. About a week after Damon learned of Bonnie's terminal illness he finally broke down and told Stefan they were in upstate New York, and not once gave him a date of when they might return to Mystic Falls. And of course his dutiful brother constantly reminded him to tell Bonnie that she already missed two freshmen orientations at Whittemore College, and if she skipped the final one in mid-August she could hang up starting her college career in the fall.

When Damon relayed that information to Bonnie, she didn't so much as blink nor acted overly concerned. Because of all the shit they had to deal with, academics had been placed on the back burner and it must have been the use of some spell or plain dumb luck that Bonnie and the rest of her friends graduated high school to begin with. All of them should be super seniors, but whatever, Damon rationalized.

He pulled the bike back on the property and his attention was drawn to the lake. He heard the sounds of water splashing but also a beautiful singing voice. Curious he strolled to the lake, walked down the pier and caught sight of Bonnie floating lazily on her back across the surface.

"Didn't know you could sing."

His voice startled her and she whirled around to face him. Bonnie glared at him, but after a minute her face became impassive. "I'm a jack of all trades."

Bonnie swam back to the pier and climbed up the wooden ladder. Damon, bent at the waist, held out his hand to help pull her to feet. Bonnie accepted his offering and stood before him in less than a second. She took small pleasure in the fact she was dripping lake water all over his boots.

With her standing so close and dressed in a sexy metallic silver bikini Damon had to remember that the girl standing before him hated his guts. But still, there were little things about her that were distracting. Like the fact her individual eyelashes were fluttering in the wind, and the little droplets of water on her skin resembled crushed diamonds in the sunlight to his vampire eyes. A corner of his lips lifted in a smirk. Between the two of them she was the one who was sparkling.

Her chocolate hair was swept back from her face and Damon only now seemed to realize that Bonnie was a very pretty girl. Well, he had always known that because he had perfect vision, but Bonnie was pretty in that she didn't really need makeup to enhance or embellish her features. Sure her lips might be a little off centered, but her skin was flawless, her viridian eyes evenly spaced apart, her cheek bones prominent and full.

He shook his head once he realized he was staring, gazing, paying _way _too much attention to her attributes. Besides, didn't he still kind of have a thing for Elena?

Damon thought for a second. Since he had been on his travels he rarely thought of Elena at least in the I-can't-wait-to-see-you-naked sort of way.

He grumbled as he realized that Bonnie had been the main source of his thought patterns as of late. He needed to find some way to remedy that before it became a monster he couldn't control.

He stepped away from her needing to establish some space between them. Bonnie this whole time had been looking out towards the tree line.

"Klaus," Damon said suddenly.

"Where?" Bonnie came to attention as her eyes darted around. She expected to see the Fucking Hard to Kill Original Pest, but saw no sign of him. She brought her eyes to Damon as she stared at him questionably.

"He might be able to help you. Maybe what's happening to you isn't so much medical as it is magical. He may know a witch who's gone through the same thing and found some cure or spell to survive."

Two dimples formed over her eyebrows. It was a sign Damon learned that Bonnie was thinking.

"He's still in Tyler's body. He'll want a replacement, he'd want us to pledge our lives to his service in exchange for helping me," Bonnie shook her head. "I'm tired of him. He can go off and draw unicorns for all I care. I don't want to involve him in this. I don't want to be indebted to him."

Those were all valid points, but Damon couldn't stand by—again—and watch someone he vaguely cared about die. For being a vampire he should be used to that crap, but it never got any easier.

"In reality, Klaus owes _you_. If he does this, it should make everything even. Think about it."

With that Damon pivoted in his boots and marched off.

Standing alone on the pier, Bonnie turned back around to face the water. She wrapped her arms around her middle.

Bringing in Klaus seemed like it would open a whole other can of worms. Yet on the flipside he might be able to her help. Still it was risk. But what in life wasn't a risk? Yeah, she certainly did have a lot to think about.

**Scene 16**

It was two o'clock in the morning and Bonnie couldn't sleep. She had been unable to stop thinking about Damon's proposition. Throwing the sheets off, she jumped out of bed and then slipped into the hall. Going over the arguments taking place in her head, Bonnie arrived outside of Damon's bedroom door. She lifted her hand, knocked once, and then turned the knob.

Okay, maybe she should have waited for him to say "come in" before waltzing into his room because as soon as she did, she saw him standing in front of the open French doors leading to the balcony, fully naked.

He was running a towel through his wet, obsidian hair. Damon didn't have a shameful bone in his body. He knew Bonnie was in his room which gave him even more incentive to turn around.

The two of them stared at one another and Bonnie told her eyes not to drop past his neck.

They didn't listen.

Her eyes grew wide as saucers when she saw Damon's er…um…what was that a third leg? Bonnie shook her head, flushed, and then kept her eyes on everything but him.

"Yes?" Damon asked innocently and then chucked the towel in the direction of the bed.

Bonnie's throat suddenly felt parched and dry. "I…um…geeze will you put some pants on?" she ordered.

"I don't have to. This is _my_ bedroom."

"And these are my eyes. I don't want to see your dick!"

"Then don't look at it. It's not bothering you."

Bonnie huffed. Yes it was bothering her. It kept filling up her peripheral vision trying to wave at her. "We can talk in the morning." Bonnie backed out of the room, slammed the door behind her, and then sprinted back to the safe confines of her bedroom.

Closing the door, Bonnie slumped against it. Her chest rose and fell heavily. Yep, Bonnie said to herself, Damon was definitely trying to kill her. And then against her will, her tongue traced her bottom lip as she let out a shaky laugh.

He just destroyed a common assumption about white men in the penile department—that was for sure.

TBC.

**A/N: Before we jump the gun, Klaus won't be appearing in the next update. I do want to explore more of Bonnie's struggle with her illness. She'll have these periods were she's fine, and then bam something will hit her out of nowhere. And I can take this time to rant about the show, but at this point, if Bamon never happens I can honestly say I'm fine with that. Seeing the track record of relationships on TVD I rather not live in fear of how long will it last before its destroyed if Bamon got together. JP is a hater, I don't care what anyone says. KG's harem is HUGE! Everyone wants to make out and/or have fake sex with her on camera, but JP is not having any of that. If this show was under the helm of someone who is less biased, I would be chomping at the bit. **

**Last season premiere I was literally salivating in anticipation of Bamon scenes because they had a lot of screen time together in S2, and then we got nothing. I realized today that I'm not even anticipating them having moments this season because they will always fall short of my expectations. Damon will be an asshole for no fucking reason and Bonnie will merely stand there and maybe roll her eyes. Maybe. They've watered down Bonnie's responses to Damon that she's almost unrecognizable to me now. Yeah can't have too much of the black gal sassing the white man, or sticking up for herself. I've written two comment letters to the CW, and basically blasted them and said what kind of message are they sending to girls who might be in Bonnie's shoes, girls who are in one-sided toxic friendships, and I also asked why can't a woman of color be an object of desire and worth. I said way more than that, but those are just a few points I made. I don't expect my letters to be acknowledged in anyway. I just couldn't keep silent anymore. If nothing changes, well at least I can say I tried.  
**

**What I would really like for Bonnie (which we probably won't ever get) is that she DOES stick up for herself, mean it, put her foot down, and actually start putting herself first. I want her to realize she is no one's magical Negro. And I want Elena to stop hopping from dick to dick and realize Bonnie is her OTP because she's died for her twice and the Salvatore's sure as hell ain't did that. Okay, part one of my rant is over lol. Sorry this is so long. I hope you enjoyed the update. Love you guys!  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello kittens. Sorry that I kept you waiting for close to two months for an update. Hopefully you remember this little tale. Thank you for your patience while I wrapped up that other very long story of mine. Enjoy. **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Scene 17**

"Hi, Christina, it's Bonnie. I know I'm scheduled to work today, but I have this raging migraine and I won't be able to make it. I'm sorry this is last minute. I felt fine when I woke up and then bam…it just hit me. Okay…I will. I'll see you on Tuesday. Thank you, Christina."

Bonnie hung up her cell phone and slowly exhaled through her nose. She didn't call out of work because she wasn't in the mood to go. Like she told the floor manager of the boutique where she worked part time, Bonnie felt perfectly fine when she woke up, and somewhere along the way her head began pounding in one spot and the pain had yet to let up or yield to the extra strength Tylenol she popped not too long ago. In addition to that, her vision had been going in and out of focus from the moment she stepped out of the shower.

The air condition was pumping yet the room still felt stifling to Bonnie. She had had a good streak of feeling fine and dandy, but for the last few days her health was beginning to go downhill.

Bonnie told herself not to jump to conclusions. Yet she knew what was going on.

Her memory was being affected, too. Plenty of people had moments of forgetfulness, but what she was forgetting wasn't along the lines of misplacing her keys, but actually forgetting her father's name and face and her exact age. That scared her—temporarily until small facts about her life returned to her long term memory and she was able to retrieve them at will. Next were her mood swings which Damon typically got the brunt of those, which unfortunately he had grown accustomed to throughout the year so it didn't bother him-much.

It was the physical pain and limitations Bonnie was having trouble accepting.

When she was young she never got more than a head cold, and during her tenure as a witch, Bonnie never got sick.

Shakily she rose from the edge of the bed, gripping the comforter for a moment too afraid to let go. Bonnie pierced her eyes closed and kept them closed until she counted to twenty in her head, and then slowly she opened them. The floor beneath her feet she could tell it was wood, but her toes—there were too many of them. Stupid double vision.

"Crap," she moaned. Where was Damon? She needed him and she hated the fact she needed him.

Bonnie quickly mumbled a spell and felt a small rebellion taking place in her head, a firestorm of sorts that made her want to pull her hair out in large clumps just to alleviate the pain. Yet she fought her way through it. She had learned several healing spells and performed one now until little by little her vision cleared like clouds parting to reveal the sun.

Standing from the slightly doubled-over position next to the bed, Bonnie looked around her room. Her vision wasn't perfect, but she could make out individual objects, could guesstimate distance, and that was good enough for her.

The question of how much longer would she be able to carry on like this stabbed her periodically; and Bonnie had done everything in her power not to think of an answer. She didn't want to die, but with her body slowly falling apart, turning on itself, her options were extremely limited in extending her life beyond what the doctor had hypothesized.

Not now, Bonnie warned herself. She wouldn't think of her life in terms of days and hours of how much time she had left. That was no way to live. If anything she should have taken a page out of Damon's book and gone out to experience the world before it was far too late; instead of staying in where she perceived it to be safe. But most importantly what she needed to do, she needed to tell her father and her friends the truth.

Just the thought alone made Bonnie want to retreat inside her room and never come out. She chastised herself because when was the last time she was mortally afraid of anything? Bonnie couldn't exactly remember. Her hands shook and it took a second for her to find her balance as she came to the top of the stairs and looked down. The world around her swam, more like tilted as if she were on a roller coaster. Bonnie counted the number of steps in her mind—twenty-five—she could make it and nothing disastrous would happen to her on the way down.

Damon had paid a small fortune to have the house practically remodeled from the inside out. Old and loose floor and baseboards had been replaced, the walls stripped of bacteria and painted, all the appliances in the kitchen were spanking new. There was no danger of her falling through the staircase or being electrocuted in trying to use the toaster to warm her Pop-Tarts, but something about the stairs looked treacherous this morning.

"Okay, you need to get over yourself," Bonnie chided and then, gripping the wall and the rail, she slowly made her way down the stairs, each step making her feel more off kilter and nauseous than the last.

After what felt like hours, which in reality probably took her about five minutes, Bonnie made it to the main level. She listened with her human ears for any sound of movement coming from the kitchen or the back part of the house and could discern nothing. She knew Damon was still around here somewhere because he always made it a point to let her know when he was leaving.

His consideration could be irritating at the best of times, but it was just a different experience for Bonnie bearing in mind she lived alone at least eighty to ninety percent of the time. She never had to check in with anyone, and no one told her of their comings and goings. She knew Damon was doing it just so she wouldn't think he took off without her.

Thinking about him was becoming a slight hobby of hers. Bonnie didn't want to pinpoint exactly when this may have happened, but she was willing to put her money on the night—well technically early morning she barged into his room and caught him in his birthday suit.

The thought of that alone was enough to make her flush. Bonnie shook her head. She so did not need that image popping up right now. Although she would admit, it did help her get to sleep most nights.

_No, no, no, no_, thinking about Damon Salvatore in terms of him becoming her sex slave was right up there with calling a demon her baby daddy. It just wouldn't do.

Pushing the front door open, Bonnie squinted against the sunlight. She heard music streaming from the open barn. Tentatively she made her way to the barn, the heat from the sun already bearing down and searing the skin of her back. August was her least favorite month, for obvious reasons, but this August just seemed like the heat was being oppressive for no damn reason.

When Bonnie reached the barn she saw Damon's legs sticking out from under his Camaro. She smiled a little wondering if it flattened him like a pancake. Shoot, she should have convinced him to add her as a beneficiary on his life insurance policy, if he had one. Maybe he was dead, but that was soon overruled when she heard him singing off key to the Kid Rock song that was blasting from the car radio.

"Damon?"

He slid out from under the car to reveal that he was yet again shirtless but this time covered in grime, oil, and sweat.

If he had been mortal, Bonnie imagined his exposed skin might have been burned in certain areas mainly around his throat and shoulders and back like a true redneck. That wasn't the case. His skin was white like milk, perfectly unblemished only stained in slashes of black and brown on one peck, his lower torso, and his arms as if he dipped them in chocolate.

His jeans which were black of course were stuck to his legs making them seem more muscular than what they probably were.

When Bonnie reached his eyes they were a burning bright blue and they resembled jewels than actual eyes. His eyes and black hair made him look annoyingly like something that didn't belong in this world. Which he didn't.

Bonnie pursed her lips and looked down at the gravel. This was getting her nowhere. Thinking along those lines, death wasn't the only thing she was in danger of.

"Yes," Damon said in a sing song voice that grated on Bonnie's nerves. He had caught her looking not like she did much to disguise it.

Forcing herself to look at him again, this time dispassionately and like a level-headed person, better yet a crime scene investigator, Bonnie was proud of the fact her eyes never fell below his chin. But then to her dismay they began to zero in on his lips.

They were…nice. Not too small, not too big and they were the perfect shade of pink. Right now they weren't smirking at her, but were at a resting position that instantly triggered a memory.

Bonnie saw herself sitting in the Gilbert kitchen going through photographs of women in their early forties from all across the nation. She and Elena had been in search of Abby when Damon showed up with her file. She and Elena were preparing to leave and that's where he said…

"Why did you tell me that you and Elena kissed?" Bonnie asked out loud though her intent was to internalize the question.

One dark eyebrow rose and Damon reached for a nearby cloth to wipe his hands. He had been changing the oil and doing other small repairs to his baby. Driving close to a thousand miles put some strain on her.

"You came out here to ask me that?"

Bonnie shook her head. "No…but…since we're on the subject, I'd like an answer. Why not keep that to yourself? Why did you feel the need to share that info with me?"

"Shock value," Damon shrugged. "You asked what was going on between us so I just decided why not address the elephant in the room. Maybe I wanted to see how Elena was going to react."

"You wanted to see if she would deny it?" Bonnie guessed.

Damon smirked and rested his elbows on his bent knees. He wondered if that was the real reason Bonnie came out to disturb him this morning. He wasn't sure of the exact time but he knew she had to report to work. She never made it her business to seek him out for a morning chat before her shift so his curious nature was practically itching to know what was up. Why was this morning out of so many others different?

Damon examined her closely. Bonnie was attired in a pair of jean shorts. They weren't terribly short that someone might mistake them for underwear, but they showed off her amazing legs. Admittedly no one had legs like Bonnie's. They reminded Damon of the can-can girls from Moulin Rouge. Shapely and curvaceous and powerful all rolled up into a petite frame. She paired the jean shorts with a tunic shirt in turquoise.

Bonnie snapped her fingers. "Eyes up here."

"Sorry," Damon snapped to attention. "Where is this coming from?" he smiled again and this smile was anything put playful. "I bet as soon as you could you asked if it was good. Didn't you?"

Bonnie was proud of herself for being able to maintain eye contact with Damon although she felt her cheeks heating up.

"She said it sucked."

"I just bet she did," Damon chuckled. "Would you like to be a judge for yourself?" he wiggled his eyebrows.

Bonnie looked ready to throw up. "Please, eww," she shivered. "I'm actually in a good mood so let's not spoil it." She fidgeted for a moment knowing she could no longer postpone the inevitable, the real reason why she was here. "Look, I…um…I'm not going to work today. My head," she paused because in the few minutes she spent conversing with Damon her migraine seemed to have vanished but as soon as she gave it a thought it came roaring back to life. Bonnie grabbed the left side of her head, winced. The playfulness that was on Damon's face was instantly replaced with concern. Yet he remained parked on his butt. He knew how this system worked. Bonnie would deny anything was wrong when questioned about it, and Damon would get irritated with her continued bullshit. He was more than exasperated at this point.

Pushing through the pain, Bonnie looked at Damon, but only through one eye. The sunlight felt like it was shooting beams right into her brain targeting the specific area that was thumping like a club beat.

"Ah…I was wondering if your offer still stands."

Damon decided now was the time to get to his feet. "What offer?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes although it only ended up costing her. They ached like the muscles in her body after an intense workout. "Your blood, doofus."

A self-satisfied smile pulled Damon's lips apart almost until his teeth were showing. But then it vanished just as quickly. Bonnie had to be in severe pain if she was asking him for a hit of his blood. She had been nothing but adamant about facing this without the interference of anything supernatural, but now it appeared Bonnie was conceding as if she were running for the highest office in the land. He stood less than a foot away from her in zero time.

"How bad does it hurt?"

The question was spoken in a dulcet tone meant to be comforting, but Bonnie's brain interpreted it as something else. Her nostrils flared as she looked up at him wondering if he was suggesting something else, something disgusting, but from the concern furrowing his brow, Bonnie banked that idea.

"Bad," she wet her bottom lip with her tongue. "My vision is all screwed up and I keep…forgetting things. I just don't want to feel like this today."

Damon decided not to make this easy for her. "Why should I just slice open a vein, now? I thought you were too _good_ for my blood."

Bonnie's jaw dropped. "You have got to be kidding me?" she raged. "You know I hate coming to you, to anyone for help and the one time I ask you for something you want to be a dick about it. So damn typical."

"Okay, don't get your panties in a twist. I was just messing with you," Damon placated. So she was in a 'don't fuck with me' mood. Got it. "How do you want to do this?"

"Obviously not with you all dirty and shit. Go clean up. I'll meet you in the living room."

Blindly it felt like Bonnie found her way back inside the house. She got lost in the kitchen and managed to fix herself a bowl of cereal while Damon got washed up in his room.

Approximately seventeen minutes later Bonnie was summoned to the living room where she found Damon sitting on the couch.

He had on a shirt although it was a sleeveless tank that was Eric Northman tight. Bonnie ignored that and then waited for: instructions, the second coming, what she wasn't sure.

"Do you want to take it from the neck?" Damon asked.

"No," Bonnie hastily replied.

"The nipple?" he leered to which Bonnie glared at him rather stonily he might add.

"The arm it is," he compromised and then patted his leg. "Take a seat."

Bonnie strode towards the couch, bypassed Damon's legs altogether, and sat down on the cushion next to him. She folded her arms but then dropped them to her legs suddenly feeling reticent because there were very few times she sat this close to Damon. On purpose.

Damon shifted on the couch so he could get a better view of Bonnie. It wasn't difficult to see that her entire body was wound extremely tight. Not to say he could blame her because well, look at him. He was far better looking than the Statute of David that women swooned over because they never saw a dick that big before. His was bigger but this wasn't exactly a game of inches. In his humble opinion, he was perfection before he became vampire. The venom or toxin, or magic, or whatever it was that made him a vampire only enhanced what was already there. He would never age, would never cease being brutally handsome.

_Actually there isn't a word adequate enough to classify just how good-looking I am_, Damon thought.

He turned his attention back to Bonnie and noticed she was staring straight ahead as if seemingly ignoring the fact they were sitting so close together on the couch. It was a downright intimate moment as if they were a couple about to settle down and watch a movie or…

Damon quickly hit the shuffle button and his thoughts changed. Wordlessly, he wrapped his left arm around Bonnie's dainty shoulders, perhaps noticing only for the second time just how tiny she was. Not just in height, but in size. A man over five-ten and a hundred and seventy pounds would probably crush her, but knowing what he knew about Bonnie, she was stronger than most of the females he had the pleasure and displeasure of knowing combined.

As his arm went around her, drawing her closer, Damon brought his wrist up to his mouth and bit into it.

Crimson blood flowed and then he lowered his bleeding arm drawing it to Bonnie's pinched lips.

At the last second her jade eyes met with his before diverting away.

Bonnie knew she should open her mouth and receive his offering. She did ask for this, but being a conscious participant of blood-sharing or whatever this little exchange was called, made her apprehensive. What if things changed? She remembered very briefly of the time Stefan gave her his blood to heal her. Bonnie had felt a huge sense of gratitude towards him afterwards.

Well, she didn't want to alarm Elena because Bonnie knew how much Stefan meant to her friend, but it went a little deeper than just gratitude. Several days after the incident, Bonnie had to stop herself from literally gazing at Stefan as if he rode in on a shooting star just to save her life. She repressed those feelings, brushed it off and said it was nothing more than a school girl crush. With time the feeling dissipated and Bonnie could hold a conversation with Stefan and not want to hump his leg.

She certainly didn't want to feel that way towards Damon, although he had already saved her once by giving her his blood. So this was nothing novel between, only it felt like it was.

Bonnie didn't have time to dwell on the fact that Damon had done a pretty selfless thing by saving her because she and her trusty magic were needed the very next day, rather later on that morning to come to the rescue of her two kidnapped best friends.

She got off easy. Tapping into dark magic more than likely suppressed any kind of feelings of warmth for Damon, and Bonnie could literally dance like a cat on a hot tin roof for that huge favor.

Yet being alone with him she had nothing else to distract her. They were essentially all alone here. She had her part time job, books, and Damon's lap top to occupy her time, but it wouldn't be enough to suppress anything.

All this time Bonnie had been immune to his charm. It wasn't terribly difficult. Before she learned he was a vampire, there was just something about Damon she didn't like or trust. She had pegged him as being one of those sexy danger guys who was used to getting what he wanted who didn't give a shit about who he had to trample on in the process, and pretty much went through women like Kleenex.

She had been right.

Now that immunity she built up was possibly in danger.

Bonnie was about to be deflowered.

"Open wide and say ah," Damon encouraged and pressed his wrist into her mouth.

Bonnie made a small noise of complaint and resistance but it was pretty much futile because his blood was filling up her mouth and she had no choice but to swallow.

So she did and not with glee.

His blood didn't really taste like anything. At first. It didn't have the metallic saltiness of human blood that Bonnie became acquainted with whenever she accidentally bit her tongue or the inside of her cheek. But as she continued to drink, she began to notice that his blood was thicker than human blood. And the taste…it wasn't sweet, bitter, or salty, but more like cornstarch syrup or something to that effect. It had a definite kick to it, but there was something grainy to it as well. That was a little tough to get down, but otherwise, it wasn't bad.

It wasn't exactly good either.

Damon couldn't take his eyes off his wrist embedded in Bonnie's mouth. Seeing her feed kind of reminded him of a baby bird. One would think Bonnie was delicate until she opened up her mouth, Damon smirked. What could he say? He had a weakness for feisty women.

When Damon felt she had enough he slowly pulled his wrist away and watched as the wound healed. Bonnie was a very clean drinker. Not a drop spilled or wasted. She wasn't like most humans who lapped at his flesh like a dog drinking water or buried their teeth into him, which was more annoying than anything else, but merely wrapped her lips around the gash he created and then pulled in a sucking motion. It made the blood flow easily and without interruption.

Bonnie wiped her bottom lip clean and then scooted to the far end of the couch unable to reach his eyes for a second.

"Thank you," she finally said.

"How do you feel? It might be too soon for you to notice any change."

Bonnie looked around, one because she wanted to test her sight, and two as a diversion. She was more concerned with her inward feelings for Damon possibly changing than noticing the pain in her head had completely gone away.

Things were sharper and she could almost believe she saw individual dust motes in the air that resembled gray snowflakes. Bonnie rose from the couch and noticed she did so in a fluid motion rather than clumsily like most humans who have to take a moment to steady themselves before walking.

"I feel fine," she finally looked at Damon and offered him a lopsided smile. "I should probably go into work."

Damon rose from the couch. "Or maybe you should take a load off instead. You have the day off. Enjoy it."

Bonnie shook her head. "I already feel bad enough that I called out. I should go. I feel fine. I don't want to stay cooped up in the house."

"Then take your ass to the lake, but you're not going into work. You need to rest for a few hours. You may feel fine now and knowing you, you'll try to do too much and will only end up feeling like shit again. Remember vampire blood isn't a cure."

Bonnie's eyes rolled. Is this how Elena felt being around him? Incompetent and a stranger in her own body?

"Thank you for the concern, but…"

"But nothing, Bonnie," Damon cut her off. "I will confiscate the keys to _my _Mustang and take the battery out if I have to, to keep you here."

Bonnie lifted her chin knowing he would do it, too. "Be glad I'm a little high right now because I would take great joy in making you_ eat_ your words, Salvatore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he waved her off. "Go read a book. I got work to do."

**Scene 18**

The pitter-patter of the rain hitting the windows and roof was keeping her up. At least that's what Bonnie was telling herself. Every time she closed her eyes she'd see things she didn't want to admit was there. She wasn't sure if it was the beginning of a fantasy or a vision or something she was making up as she went along, but it terrified her.

Coming to a sitting position on the bed, Bonnie reached over to the night table and picked up her cell phone. She had been living for two months without the companionship of her girlfriends, and she was beginning to miss them, well beginning to miss estrogen period. It was hard being hard around someone all the time, and always keeping her defenses up. She made a few friends from work, but no one she really connected with, not the way she connected with Caroline, and Elena—well when they used to be tight like glue.

Scrolling through her contacts, Bonnie located Caroline's number and dialed her friend up.

At the last second she thought to check the time, but it was too late now. The phone was ringing.

And Caroline answered right before her voice mail kicked in. "Hello?" she asked groggily.

"Hey, Care-bear it's me, Bonnie."

"Bonnie?" Caroline questioned as if she had lost all knowledge of who she was and then, "BONNIE!" she exploded not a tenth of a second later. "Ohmygod! It's you? Is it really you? What time is it? Are you home? _Please _tell me you're home."

Bonnie smiled and wanted to burst out into tears. For some reason, when around Caroline and they were going through something she always turned into a crybaby.

"No, I'm not home."

"Where are you, Bonnie? Are coming back to Mystic Falls at all? Don't you want to start college? You've already missed every single orientation at Whitmore. Have you decided to delay your admission until the spring?"

Bonnie wiped at a tear that rolled down her cheek. College. She had completely forgotten about college. What would be the point in going when she would be dead before the semester was mid-way over, Bonnie thought grimly.

Softly Bonnie said, "I'm not going to college, Caroline."

"_What_?" the blond vampire shrieked. Bonnie had to hold the phone away from her ear. "What do you mean you're not going to college? Has Damon brainwashed you or something? Where the hell is he?"

"He's asleep in his bed, I guess. I don't really know," Bonnie danced around the issue. Damon had gone out right after Bonnie finished dinner. It was their nightly routine. She would stay in. He would go out and she never asked him any questions come morning.

"When I see him I am going to…"

And Caroline said something that no decent human would ever repeat out loud.

Bonnie, grudgingly, felt the need to come to his rescue. "Damon has been…he's been Damon, but he's been tolerable. He's helped me out a lot."

There was a pregnant pause before Caroline's voice came on the line again. "You sound strange, Bon. What is going on with you? Why would you take off and not tell anyone where you were going? Were you _that _sick of being in Mystic Falls? I mean, it's totally understandable, but that's not like you to just disappear without a trace. And now you tell me that you're not going to college."

The tears were almost gushing down Bonnie's cheek. Caroline didn't know how she almost hit the nail on the head. She was sick. And Mystic Falls was the catalyst.

"College just isn't in my future right now," Bonnie hedged. "I might take classes online, but I rather just take sometime off."

"Hmm," Caroline murmured suspiciously. "Hold on. Let me call Elena and put her on three-way."

"NO!" Bonnie practically yelled. "I just—I just wanted to talk to you."

"O—kay," Caroline replied carefully. "Is something going on with you guys? Are you fighting?"

"No, we're not…it's not like that. I know I'm not making much sense right now, but I had to leave Mystic Falls, Caroline. I want to tell you the truth, but I know the minute I do it will just make everything more…I don't know, real," Bonnie laughed humorlessly.

"Okay, now you're scaring me, Bonnie. You disappear for weeks. Damon pops up and says he's found you and has whisked you away to some town or city in upstate New York, and you've pretty much been off the grid. Ohmygod, did you two elope?"

At that Bonnie had to laugh. "That would take an act of faith or some religion non-existent to man for something like _that_ to _ever_ happen."

Caroline snorted. "Something is going on, or I should say certain people believe something is brewing between you and the elder Salvatore. Elena wants her toy back. She hasn't exactly said it, but you can see it in her eyes. She misses Damon."

"More than she misses me?" Bonnie deadpanned and then slapped a hand over her mouth. "I didn't mean for that to come out."

"Cleanse your spirit, my sister," Caroline giggled. "She misses you, too, and knowing that you're alone with Damon…she's worried. Worried you might not come back the same way you left. Hint-hint. Seriously, sweetie, please tell me why you bailed."

Bonnie curled up on her side. She wanted to tell Caroline the truth, but not yet. She didn't want the cavalry arriving.

"I wasn't happy," Bonnie answered plaintively. "I'd wake up in the morning wondering what knew fuckery I'd have to deal with and how it was going to put the people I cared about and myself in danger. I just couldn't do it anymore, Care. I decided I was going to start living for myself, and it hasn't been all that great, but…I'm finally finding my happiness again."

"I'm sorry, Bonnie," Caroline said sincerely. "I wish there was more I could have done for you. But you're happy being around Damon? Yuck."

Bonnie laughed and Caroline joined in not long after.

"He's like putting on calamine lotion after falling into a patch of poison ivy."

"He's the poison ivy, right?"

"Yeah. Look, I promise to give you more details on what's going on with me. Soon."

"You promise?"

"I promise. So…what's been going on since I've been gone?"

"You'll never believe who showed up looking for you," Caroline said.

Bonnie could imagine the giddy smile on her face.

"There are only two people who come to mind. One of them male, the other female."

"It was definitely the male. Yep, Jamie came basically going from door-to-door trying to find you. He said if we heard from you or saw you to please tell you to call him. He's in love," Caroline teased dreamily.

"He's in denial," Bonnie rebutted. "I haven't really spoken to him since the decade's dance. Going out with him was a huge mistake."

"I didn't want to say anything because for a split second you looked like you were happy, but seriously Bonnie, dude is practically your brother."

"I'm getting off this phone with you, Caroline."

"The truth hurts, I know," she laughed. "I'll do you one and compel him to forget all about little Bonnie Bennett. If you come back home, Klaus' little, annoying, yet deliciously hot younger brother is in town. Kol. He's even asked about you."

Bonnie felt herself blushing for some stupid reason. "Yeah, right. We haven't even met."

"Well, apparently he was quite taken with you when he saw you at some party when you were going through your whole Goth phase. Please tell me you've let that fad go?"

"I have," Bonnie studied her nails for a second. She had no idea why she put off talking to her friends. She was beginning to feel like a girl again, whole again. "But he saw me at a party? Why didn't he say anything?"

"He's the more…stalk you until he's ready to make your acquaintance type."

Bonnie arched her brows. "Hmm, certainly don't need anymore of those in my life. And speaking of Klaus…how are things on that front?"

Caroline huffed. "He is the biggest…the world's largest…douche bag on the planet. My God, Bonnie his superiority complex is out of control! He actually makes Damon look like a choir boy when it comes to his arrogance. He's finally found a witch willing to do the whole switcher-roo spell, but of course he's being a whole bitch about the thing. I think Stefan wants to stake himself because Klaus has built up this whole bromance in his head and he won't leave him alone for two seconds. I really have no idea who he's trying to court anymore, me or Stefan."

Bonnie laughed until her stomach hurt. She had forgotten how dramatic Caroline could be and high-strung, but it just reminded her of old times where life was simple and she only had to concern herself with staying on top of the social pyramid at school and gaining dirt on everyone around her.

It was amazing how times have changed.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with him all the time."

"Yeah, I can't wait to have my boyfriend back. I've lost count of the number of times I've hit and punched Tyler because Klaus said something obnoxious. At this rate Tyler will be all black and blue by the time he's in his body again." Pause. "It's so good to hear your voice, Bonnie."

It took a moment for the young woman in question to respond. Her chin quivered and her throat nearly collapsed but finally Bonnie found her voice again, "It's so good to hear yours, too, Caroline."

Bonnie and Caroline stayed on the phone nearly until sunrise before getting off with promises not to go so long without checking in with each other.

**Scene 19**

Lying on her side and watching as the sky faded from deep indigo to slashes of red-orange and Pepto Bismol pink, Bonnie should have felt exhausted but she was strangely invigorated. She quickly showered and slipped into a long purple and white paisley summer dress that swept the floor as she walked. She made herself useful in the kitchen by digging deep into the cabinets and pulled out everything she would need to make a southern style breakfast.

Bonnie was whisking the eggs into the flour after adding the milk when suddenly she forgot what was supposed to come next. Nutmeg, vanilla extract, cinnamon, or baking soda. Wait, did this recipe for homemade pancakes need baking soda, then again what was baking soda?

She stopped her activity and stared at the ingredients spread out on the counter unsure of what she was doing. Making breakfast the answer came to her, but was she making it for more than one person? Who else was she cooking for?

A man entered the kitchen, scrubbing a hand through his tousled dark hair. He mumbled good morning and made his way over to coffee machine.

Damon's head was banging. He had had a splendid time being entertained by the lovely ladies of, well he forgot the name of the sorority, but they were some rowdy girls once you got a few drinks in them. And they had been thirsty, too from what he could recall. He probably shelled out close to four hundred bucks in booze last night before the storm hit. Naturally he took refuge with Samantha, no Allison, no he was sure her name might have been Kat. Either way, last night was going into his volt of nights to remember.

Turning away from the coffee machine, Damon stared at Bonnie who was looking at him like she had never seen him before.

Did he look that horrible after a night of drinking, dancing, fist pumping, and fucking?

"What?" he barked.

Bonnie stepped away from the counter, backed away as if she were preparing to run. "What are you doing?"

"Painting my toenails. What does it look like? I'm making coffee, duh."

"No, I mean, what are you doing in my house?"

Damon laughed. "Nice one. I don't think I've slipped into a Stephen King novel overnight so I'm just going to ignore you. Will you let me know when the coffee is done? Thanks."

When he reached the stairs, Damon stopped, pivoted on the heels of his bare feet, and walked back to the kitchen.

After Bonnie told him about her illness, Damon did a little research of his own and found out some signs and symptoms associated with a malignant brain tumor. A person affected could have seizures, changes in speech or hearing, changes in vision, balance problems, problems with memory, personality changes, and weakness in a specific part of the body. Yet all that was sticking out to Damon was problems with memory.

When he made it back to the kitchen he found Bonnie staring down at the pots and pans, blankly.

"Bonnie?"

She jumped and then looked at him with recognition dancing her eyes but that didn't stop her from frowning. "What?"

"Are you…hell woman do you know you just completely spaced out a minute ago?"

She blinked as if she had no idea what he was talking about. "Oh. Did you want something?"

"Yeah, my coffee."

"I'm not your maid, Damon. Make it yourself," Bonnie retorted and vacated the kitchen, but not without making one last declaration. "And clean up that mess in the kitchen."

Incredulous eyes followed after Bonnie. Damon shook his head. Yep, it was just about time to make that call.

Chapter end.

**A/N: I must give a shout-out to Web MD for providing the info on malignant brain tumors. Of course all cases vary, and though it didn't go into too much detail on the symptoms, for Bonnie her memory loss may come and go at will. She's supernatural so I would expect her to be a tad bit different that she may appear to forget faces, names, places and then seemingly remember a minute or two later, so please don't jump on me about that. I'm not a medical doctor so I don't know how long memory loss or the other symptoms may last in a person. So we're cool on that? Cool. Moving on, I didn't want Bonnie to come clean to Caroline just yet. I wanted her to have a moment where she's just an eighteen year old girl on the phone with her bestie especially after being around Damon all the time; she needed a little estrogen and fun. I didn't want doom and gloom this chapter. Though I am not a fan of how Damon is being portrayed on the show, and it becomes a little more difficult to ship him with my queen Bonnie, however, I can overlook that and stick with the canon of my story. Those two are just becoming a married couple as the days pass by. But the tide is shifting. Which way will things blow? Thank you for reading, my lovelies. Until next time, love you!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Well since my last update came on December 3****rd****, January 3****rd**** seems fitting. That wasn't planned, just had to battle some writer's block. Hope you guys enjoy! **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Scene 20**

"Did you know that your name in Greek means 'to kill'?"

Damon stopped his dinner preparation to stare at Bonnie who stood on the other side of the kitchen island dicing lettuce.

He shrugged after a thoughtful pause. "Not surprised. It wasn't given to me randomly it seems. Maybe my dad was psychic on top of being a world-class asshole."

Bonnie made no comment yet continued, "Your name was derived from _daman _which in a nutshell means to tame, to subdue, euphemistically used to mean to kill. It is fitting."

Slightly poking out his bottom lip Damon added more oregano to the homemade marinara sauce he was making. "What inspired you to look into the meaning of my name? Don't tell me you're expecting. We've barely christened the house," he leered.

Leaning the heels of her hands on the counter top Bonnie stared at Damon. "Do you honestly think every single woman on the planet wants to have sex with you?"

"Well…yeah! I am a catch," he answered brightly.

"Yeah, you're a catch like gonorrhea," Bonnie mumbled dryly.

Damon chuckled softly under his breath. "Your jealousy is showing."

Incredulous, Bonnie scoffed. "Jealous of what? You! Ha!"

Instead of answering Damon strolled over to Bonnie, stood behind her leaving very little separation between their bodies. He began to speak softly into her ear.

"Of the things I can do," he said. "I'm super fast."

Bonnie looked at him over her shoulder, her brows knitted together. "A minute man. I'm sure that would leave some ladies disappointed."

Damon didn't take the bait about his sexual prowess in the bedroom. The evidence of cracked walls and shattered furniture was proof enough he could make it last forever like that Keith Sweat song.

"I pack a mean punch, Bonnie. I'm smart and I'm resourceful, and…I make the best toss salad in the world. What are you doing to this head of lettuce?" he complained as he peered at the butchered pieces of foliage on the cutting board.

"What? It's just lettuce. There's no specific way to cut it," Bonnie argued defensively. She might not have studied with the best culinary chefs in the world, but Bonnie knew her way around a kitchen well enough. Besides, if she hadn't taught herself the basics like making spaghetti, rice, chicken, and a few other dishes she would have starved.

"That's where I see we have a difference of opinion," Damon sniffed. Then proceeded to pick up the knife Bonnie had been using and trapped her slightly between his arms. "Delicate cuts," he advised in a dulcet tone and demonstrated what he meant. "Feel the knife go through like this," he placed the knife in Bonnie's right hand, overlapping her fingers with his own and sliced the lettuce into edible bits.

Bonnie swallowed reflexively. Yet again she hadn't exactly gotten used to his proximity although Damon had a reputation for entering people's personal space without invitation. He very rarely did so with her, but that didn't seem to be the case any longer. Since they had been living in dysfunctional bliss for the last month and a half their dynamic had changed, modified. Drinking his blood certainly hadn't worked in making sure certain boundaries between them remained in place.

"See? Simple," Damon's voice interrupted her musings. He took a step away from Bonnie and observed her for a moment as she worked the knife the way he showed her.

"When did you learn how to become a chef?" Bonnie cleared her throat, hoping to stifle that tingling feeling that rushed to her fingers and toes.

"Somewhere around the turn of the twentieth century. Ran out of servants to prepare the meals."

"Because they were the menu?"

"More or less," Damon winked and walked back to his post behind the stove. "Seriously, why were you investigating the meaning of my name?"

Bonnie glanced at him briefly, "I don't know. I couldn't sleep so I hopped on the Net to read…something, this website that has all these stories that fans write based off their favorite shows. This one particular story gave the definition of all the lead characters names, and Damon happened to be one of them."

"Hmm, what kind of story was it?" Damon's voice became husky for some strange reason, mostly out of habit.

"You know…graphic stuff."

In a dramatic fashion Damon dropped the wooden spoon in his hand as his jaw slackened. "Oh my God…Bonnie Bennett reads smut!"

Bonnie was proud of the fact she didn't blush although she felt something akin to uncomfortable warmth spread through her. To deflect she threw a carrot stick at Damon.

"So," she replied as if it weren't a big deal.

Damon pursed his lips, "Don't try and rob me of the opportunity to make you feel embarrassed by acting all nonchalant. This is big! I feel like we're bonding, finally. So what are you into? Foot fetishism? BDSM? Femslash? Bestiality?"

"Your brain must be a bag full of cats, Damon if you think I'm into _any _of the aforementioned things. And it wasn't porn without plot; it was a pretty decent story."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Yeah what was so great about it? This Damon character was the laughingstock of the whole town, was the ultimate nerd who didn't get the girl?"

Bonnie shook her head and then picked individual lettuce remains from her fingers. "Damon was this guy who was living a double lifestyle. Lied to everybody he knew but he did it because he had a daughter he was trying to protect. He fell in love with this secret service agent who was sent to kill him actually because he was a wanted criminal, but he was framed by his wife."

"That's cold," Damon frowned.

"Yeah, it was."

"So what happened to Damon and the hot secret service chick? Were they able to clear his name, get his daughter, and live happily ever after?"

The sarcasm in his voice wasn't hard to dismiss, Bonnie thought, but underneath she detected a bit of…well she didn't want to call it hope but something akin to it. Damon was curious to know if even a fictional character with his name could actually obtain that ever elusive happy ending.

"Not exactly. He died. He was killed."

"Wow…that sucks."

"But he had this really endearing moment with his daughter before he died. He was shot, took a bullet that was meant for the agent. It's a really good story. I think you would like it."

"I've had my fill of being-shot-through-the-heart stories. That's how I died…originally," he glanced at Bonnie before going back to adding his special ingredients to the spaghetti sauce.

_Oh, right_, Bonnie thought. On the night Damon attacked her and she went over to Elena's once Stefan healed her by giving her his blood, Elena spilled the beans on what the Salvatore brothers were and dipped a little into how they became vampires. Bonnie hadn't believed any of it at the time, more to the matter she didn't want to accept the fact that vampires existed, they were real, and they were vicious assholes who threw tantrums and hurt people simply because they could. She wasn't the only supernatural thing walking around anymore and that scared her.

But Damon and Stefan had been shot to death by their own father. In a way, Bonnie could see how that would mess up Damon's psyche probably more than it already was. Vampirism heightened what was already inside of a person. But Bonnie had taken a psychology class and knew certain behaviors could be conditioned as well. It wasn't all genetics. One's environment had a big hand in shaping a person.

Bonnie could see why Damon would have a grudge the size of the universe and to add insult to injury to find out the vampire he loved, obsessed over, and schemed to free for a century and a half didn't love him in return and only his brother…

It was a miracle they were all still alive.

She shook her head. What was she doing? Was she actually rationalizing his prior behavior? Was she making excuses for the horrific things he's done all in the name of Katherine, all in the name of Elena?

It was the blood, _his _blood it had to be that had her thinking crazy.

"I ah…I should go freshen up or something," Bonnie said and booked out of the kitchen.

Damon stared as Bonnie made her departure before shaking his head. Chicks, he'd never understand them.

**Scene 21**

Two knocks sounded on Elena's bedroom door. Stuffing her pen between the crease in her journal, Elena sat up in bed.

"Come in," she called.

Jeremy entered her room looking anxious and pensive. "Hey, have you spoken to Bonnie at all?"

Elena shook her head, her long hair brushing against her legs. She really should cut a few inches off, but hadn't mustered up the energy to make an appointment with her hair stylist. Besides, she had other things to worry about than her looks. Her best friend had been MIA for months, living somewhere in upstate New York with the vampire she hated. Everyday Elena told herself not to worry needlessly. If Bonnie were in trouble surely she'd find someway to contact her or Caroline to let them know, but so far things had been quiet. Almost too quiet and that was what unnerved her the most.

Jeremy made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. This sitting on his hands at the kid's table bullshit had long passed its novelty. Though he and Bonnie's relationship was over didn't mean he still didn't have a soft spot in his heart for her. He wished he could have articulated that after the whole Anna fiasco, but Bonnie had been more than adamant she didn't want to hear a peep from him concerning the discovery of his dormant feelings for the dead vampire. Constantly Jeremy questioned if his feelings for Anna had been genuine, the stuff legends were made out of, but he had been plagued with uncertainty. She swooped into his life with an agenda, but somewhere along the way love or something eerily close to it developed between them. Jeremy had been a lost soul, something he had in common with Anna whose burning desire was to be reunited with her mother. If the shoe was on the other foot, Jeremy was positive he wasn't beyond manipulation and playing tricks or games to see either of his parents again.

He hated that he caused the drama in his relationship with Bonnie, that he painted a picture she meant nothing to him. That couldn't be farther from the truth. He had to stop being naïve and then out of nowhere experienced a major maturity growth spurt. Things happened far beyond his control, and when he tried to intervene the results were always disastrous. Yet Bonnie had been there, played an integral part in his reeducation, and because of that he might have, no he _knew _he took her love for granted.

Yet he had help in that regard.

Damon Salvatore had been that huge reality check, kick in the ball sac Jeremy needed. Basically cemented Jeremy's determination to never again be the weak little boy who missed his parents. And Bonnie was alone with him.

Elena studied her brother for a moment before speaking. "I'm sure wherever she is with Damon, she's okay."

Jeremy snorted and rolled his eyes. "You don't believe that anymore than I do. Damon is an unhinged hothead and don't try to deny it or _romanticize _the type of _thing _he is. I wouldn't put it past him to have dumped her drained body on the side of the road."

Elena recoiled a little at the imagery that sentiment conjured. "Jeremy, don't say things like that. Damon might be a lot of things, but he wouldn't…he would never deliberately hurt Bonnie."

"Why?"

"Because he knows how important she is to me."

"Still didn't stop him from turning her mother into a vampire all to keep you alive. Yes, he is the poster child for being sensitive to others feelings," Jeremy muttered sarcastically.

Elena sighed heavily and crawled off the bed. "Look this going back and forth is getting us nowhere. Bonnie left for a reason. She took off because…" Elena looked away and tossed a hand in the air. "I don't know why she left, but the message is pretty clear that she wanted space, room to breathe. She wasn't happy here."

Jeremy folded his muscular arms over his broad chest. It was a bit startling for Elena to realize just how much her little brother had grown over the year. He was becoming more of a man each and every single day, and though that should have made her happy, it made her apprehensive of the future. Jeremy had always been moody, but add in the cynicism and he was beginning to become more like their hateful Uncle John Gilbert who had a one track mind: kill all vampires.

"Yeah," Jeremy said. "I can't really fault her for leaving. It's the being alone with Damon bit I don't like. He doesn't know the first thing about respect, Elena. Or when to quit. I just wished she'd talk to us; tell us what's going on. I just want her to come back."

Elena cleared the space that separated her from her brother. She rubbed his arm affectionately.

"You really miss her, don't you?"

Jeremy nodded. He missed seeing her smile, which had become a rarity months before she took off. Missed hearing her voice, a voice that used to be filled with so much energy and enthusiasm. That old saying was true: you don't know what you have until you don't have it anymore. Perhaps it was selfish on his part to want Bonnie back although he had contributed in breaking her heart, but her place was with them, her extended family, not Damon fucking Salvatore.

"We have to do something, show Bonnie that we care about her, miss her, and want her to come home. The longer we remain inactive, the more she probably thinks no one gives a shit about her," Jeremy rallied.

Elena looked doubtful for a moment. "I'm sure Bonnie knows we love and miss her, and if we push this…it might do the reverse and drive her farther away."

"Elena…"

"Just hear me out, Jer," Elena tried to explain. "I want to talk to Bonnie and tell her everything you just said, too, but…you know Bonnie. When she's not in the mood to deal with you, things won't be pretty. We can debate about this all we like, but we shouldn't do anything until she contacts us first."

That idea earned Elena an incredulous look from Jeremy. He took a step away from her. "And you call yourself her best friend."

Elena blinked and felt a flicker of anger lance through her. The red veins signaling her blood lust became momentarily visible, until Elena reminded herself to take a deep breath and not to mutilate Jeremy where he stood because he was family.

"I am her best friend!" she argued.

Jeremy saw the grotesque change to her face and diplomatically chose to ignore it. Instead he countered, "Then act like it! I bet if Damon was the one missing you would have dispatched us all to the ends of the earth the second you found out he was gone."

"That's not true," Elena vehemently denied.

"Lying to yourself isn't healthy, Elena," Jeremy said drolly.

Now she was pissed. Insinuating that she placed more value on Damon's life over that of her best friend, a person she's known her entire life was fighting words.

"I love you, Jeremy, and I understand your frustration, but you say one more asinine thing about my feelings about Bonnie and Damon and I will…"

"Save the dramatics, and just call your friend. You want to shut me up? Then pick up that phone and call her," Jeremy then stomped over to Elena's night table and picked up her cell phone. He tossed it—more like threw it at Elena who thanks to her new and improved reflexes—caught it. "Call her."

"Jeremy…"

"Then call your other boy toy Damon and tell his ass to put Bonnie on the phone. Everyone in the world knows he can't tell you no."

Pursing her lips, Elena glared at Jeremy before dropping her eyes to her phone. What could it hurt to call Damon at least with the expressed purpose of getting a status update on Bonnie? Since he had been gone the only person he seemed to tolerate speaking to for a few minutes was Stefan. Perhaps if he heard her voice, Damon might feel inclined to allow her to speak with Bonnie.

The hard part would be convincing Bonnie to speak with her.

Taking a deep breath, Elena located Damon's number and then called him. She lightly tapped her foot against the rug on the hardwood floor, and listened to the phone ring.

**Scene 22**

"What?" Damon whined at his phone as he stared at the name of the caller flashing across the screen. He held the device up to his ear and prepared himself to be verbally assaulted with guilt. "Hello Elena."

"You answered."

The relief was very hard to miss in her voice.

"You doubted that I would?" this tickled Damon for some strange reason.

"You've been very quiet and tight-lipped which isn't what anyone has come to expect from you. How are you doing?"

"I'm fantastic, but I know it's not me you're worried about."

There was a pause, more like a hesitation before Elena's voice came on again. "How is she, Damon?"

If that wasn't a loaded question, Damon thought to himself. "Bonnie is…"

DBDBDBDB

Her hand wiped the fog and built-up condensation off the mirrored glass. Bonnie stared at her reflection before her attention was diverted to the yellow Post-It notes that decorated the perimeter of the mirror. On each was a scribbled reminder of significant events in her life: her date of birth, her current age, when she graduated high school, the names of her best friends, and her favorite things to eat. Then there was that lone Post-It note that held the number of days she had left. Eighty-five it read but it could be give or take. The memory loss irritated her to no end, yet there was little she could do to stop it at this point.

It had been two weeks since she drank Damon's blood. It helped in making her feel rejuvenated and made her more alert, but then its potency wore off within days. She was back to feeling miserable; to dealing with vision problems, the holes in her memory, and the feeling she was becoming a different person. Luckily for her, Damon hadn't made a big production out of the fact that she had his blood percolating inside of her, but it didn't make it any easier for her not to feel a smidgen of gratitude towards him.

But those thoughts that came to her in the kitchen, about possibly feeling sympathy for his plight…that was like the old Bonnie who cared about people's feelings because she knew that crappy things happened to genuinely good people, but Damon wasn't a good person. He had the capability of being one, but he always chose to go the route of douchebag. She couldn't understand it, and Bonnie had felt more than justified treating him with contempt. Besides, he earned it.

Yet…these past few weeks Damon had demonstrated he had the propensity to be kind. No, he hadn't gone so far as to spread out his trusty leather jacket over puddles for her, but he had helped nurse her back to health—so to speak—and he was keeping her secret.

When she looked at Damon it certainly wasn't through rose-colored glasses, nor did she look at him as if he left deformed babies out to die of exposure. Bonnie was almost willing to call him a friend, but there were still things about Damon that left a sour and bitter taste in her mouth.

Reaching for her toothbrush and toothpaste, Bonnie shook her head. She considered it a miracle she was still here. Her mood swings had returned with a vengeance, but Bonnie tried to temper them, hide them the best she could by either avoiding Damon, or using magic to work out her frustrations. And if Damon found out about that he would shit a whole zoo, elephant keepers too.

Not like she cared or anything.

Bonnie was reminded of what she did to the southwest end of the property two days ago when she flew off into a rage because apparently she had nothing else better to do. Damon hadn't been home which probably exacerbated the problem, so Bonnie needing a release, an escape, took a walk along the property and then for a good hour and a half burned whatever her eyes landed on or whatever her hands touched. She tried her best not to inflict her inner turmoil on the wildlife, but after her rage subsided, she noticed that quite a few birds and squirrels laid charred on the ground, their little corpses decorating the blackened earth like a battlefield.

She had rushed back to the cottage, threw up her lunch, and then proceeded to cry for the rest of the day.

Bonnie was sure Damon could smell the ash and smoke in the air when he returned. He more than likely wanted to bring it up, but Bonnie certainly never mentioned it, and they were stationed in a part of New York where it wasn't uncommon for someone to burn trash.

To distract herself she tried to read, but the words would go in and out of focus which would only lead to her developing a headache. So Bonnie took a trip to the local pharmacy to purchase a pair of cheap reading glasses praying it would help. It didn't. No matter what kind of precautions she took: avoiding being out in the bright sunlight for long periods of time, using candles instead of the overhead light in her room, and wearing sunglasses literally everywhere, she would develop a migraine that nearly split her skull in half.

When she wasn't dealing with that, she dealt with the nosebleeds, the nausea, and the lethargy.

Bonnie knew she wouldn't be able to put if off for much longer. She would need more of Damon's blood at least to ward off the worst of her symptoms while they searched for a "cure" or someway to help her beat this tumor. She wasn't a quitter so if she was destined to go down, she was going down fighting.

A knock sounded on her door. Bonnie spit out a wad of toothpaste mingled with saliva.

"What?"

"It's Elena on the phone. Do you want to talk to her?"

Bonnie exhaled as quietly as she could and then rinsed out her mouth. She made sure the knot in her towel was tight enough before she threw the door open.

Damon stood there looking as impassive as ever. He held out his cell phone towards her and then promptly got missing, no doubt to go spy on her conversation from another room.

"Hey Elena."

"Hi, Bonnie! I'm so glad to hear your voice. How are you doing? Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," she said a bit shakily. "I mean…I have my good and bad days. How are you doing with the whole vampire thing?"

"It's coming along. I still don't trust myself around large crowds or anything, but Stefan and Caroline have been patient tutors." Pause. "Bonnie, I miss you. When are you coming home?"

"I don't know," Bonnie sat down on the edge of the tub. "I don't really see a point in coming back to Mystic Falls. I've pretty much blown off going to college, and its too late now to register and go through that whole charade," Bonnie winced slightly as pain began to throb behind her eyeballs.

"Bonnie…I'm worried. You always said you wanted to attend the college where Grams taught so blowing off school...just seems out of character for you. Jeremy basically wants to pile into the car and rush up to wherever you are with Damon and bring you back. Something is going on. You know you can talk to me."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, all Bonnie wanted to do was get off the phone. Elena's concern was suffocating her and it almost made Bonnie blurt out the truth, yet she knew what the consequence of that would be. The consequence would entail a litany of questions from Elena before she demanded her location, and Bonnie wouldn't have the willpower to tell her to stay put and not interfere because it was Elena and she hated telling the chick no for some dumb reason. Elena would then recruit Caroline. Jeremy and Stefan would come along believing it was their right to rush to her side and try to convince her to seek out a second opinion about her illness, or allow them all to feed her their blood until, inadvertently, they turned her.

Yet the tip of the iceberg would be everyone taking it as a personal slight against them on why Bonnie withheld the truth for so long. Never mind the fact it was her life hanging in the balance, and her decision not to say a word because she didn't want pity or to be handled like a physically impaired person.

She wasn't weak.

"Bonnie?"

"Yeah, I'm here, sorry."

"You were so different when you left," Elena continued. "I asked Damon to find you and I'm glad he did, but sweetie it's been months and we only hear from you sparingly. Damon isn't giving up any details on where you guys are, and I know you're safe for the most part, but this keeping us in the dark, I just don't know what to say to people when they ask if I've heard from or seen you."

Bonnie nibbled a corner of her lip pensively. It never really occurred to her that her absence might be noticed by anyone other than her friends.

"Is something going on between you and…Damon?"

So that's the reason why she was calling? Bonnie questioned mentally. Not because Elena missed her? Not because she was concerned for her overall well-being, but because she was worried that she might be losing numbers in her harem?

Bonnie tried to change the nature of her thoughts, but as she replayed Elena's words over in her head, she was sure her friend mentioned Damon at least half a dozen times, and Damon was the absolute _last _person Bonnie wanted to think about. He was everywhere! In her thoughts, damnit, figuratively speaking he had been in her body via his blood not too long ago. She wanted space, but she _needed _him and she despised the fact that she did. It was bad enough they were alone here together, but that didn't mean Bonnie wanted to have yet another conversation about Damon Salvatore.

Her irritation was mounting.

Elena didn't know what to make of Bonnie's silence. "If something is happening between you and Damon…Bonnie I'm not sure if it's a good idea. I mean..."

"Look," Bonnie cut Elena off, "_nothing_ is going on between me and that gotdamn vampire, all right so just chill with that, Elena. And I'll come home when I fuckin' feel like coming home. I'm not going to school because after the year I've had, hell after the year we've all had I think I'm entitled to some time off. Sorry if this doesn't fall into alignment with what you've come to expect from me, but I'm not the same person anymore. Okay!"

There was silence for literally two full minutes before Elena struck up the courage to speak again.

"What the hell is your problem? I'm worried about you and you want to chew my head off. What's going on with you, Bonnie?"

Everything and nothing was wrong with her. Here she was fucking dying while her two best friends would get to be young, hot immortals together for all eternity. On the scale of things it didn't seem right of fair, but unfortunately it was life. Bonnie accepted it, but that didn't mean she had to continue this phone call.

"I can't talk right now, Elena. Thanks for calling to check up on me, but I'm still alive so there's no need to be worried. I'll talk to you later."

Click. Dial tone.

Bonnie hurled Damon's phone out of the bathroom but didn't hear the satisfying sound of it shattering to pieces against the wall. She laughed dryly she grabbed her pair of jeans that were draped on the towel rack and proceeded to stuff her legs into them.

Not two seconds later, Damon filled up the doorway with his precious cell phone in his hand. "I think I'm going to have to sign you up for an anger management class."

Bonnie flipped him off to which Damon smirked. "You're one to talk Mr. I-Kill-Anything-That-Breathes-Because-I-Was-Rejected."

"We're not talking about me, princess. You're the one invoking the spirit of Naomi Campbell. It's happening again. Isn't it?"

Bonnie ignored him while she stomped out of the bathroom and entered her closet where she searched the racks for a decent shirt to wear.

Damon followed her and tried to calm her busy hands. "Bonnie, stop."

She struggled for a minute before simmering down, breathing erratically. Bonnie brought her green eyes to Damon. "What's wrong with me? I didn't mean what I said…"

"You're going through a tough time and it would probably be easier for you if you just told the truth to your friends instead of holding it in and trying to be Superwoman. I agreed to keep your secret, but I'm going to have to renege if this keeps happening."

Damon ran his eyes over Bonnie. She was beginning to lose weight. The bones in her chest were becoming more prominent each day, and her arms were turning into sticks. When they shared meals together Bonnie picked over her food. He had been around long enough to know when someone's clock was running out of time, the will to eat was typically the first stage in a person giving up and surrendering to death. As many times as he might have been accused of not being observant, he had no choice but to be seeing how he was sequestered here with Bonnie. He knew her habits fairly well, and Bonnie had been a lover of food, but lately she ate just enough to keep her heart going.

The control freak in him had reared its demanding little head plenty of times since Bonnie admitted the truth of her health. Damon was proud of himself for not letting it run rampant, causing him more trouble than he needed. But Bonnie, the stubborn mule, was pressing on his last nerve about this whole thing.

"Damon, I don't want to talk about this."

"You don't want to talk about anything, Bonnie and that's your fucking problem. I offered to help you…"

"And you are helping me! My God man what more do you want? You want to be my crutch? Well I'm not comfortable with that. Why are you even still here with me? Shouldn't you be off chasing after…"

"Bonnie, I'm beginning to like you but _if _you finish that sentence with what I think you're going to say I will be on my way to plan your funeral. Elena is not my concern right now. _You _are."

Staring up into those blazing oceanic eyes of his, Bonnie deflated. She went back to nibbling on a corner of her lip, a nervous habit she picked up when she was young. Yet here Damon was with a pick ax chiseling away at that rock she had boxed herself into. She should really hate him for being here and for wanting to put her problems first. It had been too long since she was on the top of anyone's priority list at least on a personal not magical level.

And it didn't escape her that he said he was beginning to like her. Hell, some days she felt like she was beginning to like his ass, too. But she always squashed the feeling like bug.

"Okay," she sniffled and swiped a finger under her nose as her eyes swelled with tears. "I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to fight with you or push my friends away. This is just hard, you know, because I've never gone through anything like this, and my body," Bonnie closed her eyes as she felt said body tighten with anger, "I didn't treat it the way I was supposed to. I pushed myself too hard. I knew magic had its limits but I didn't care. I thought I was special, that I could withstand anything…I'm not like you."

"I don't say this to a lot of people but you are special, Bonnie," Damon refuted and wiped a lone tear away with the pad of his thumb. "And you are like me."

Bonnie opened her mouth to object, but Damon cut her off.

"You want to live and you'll do anything necessary to survive. There's nothing wrong with that so don't think there is." Pause. "When do you want to tell them?"

Bonnie wiped the rest of her tears away. "Today, tomorrow, never…" she laughed a little. "Tomorrow," she answered unequivocally.

"Are you sure? Don't dick me around on this."

Bonnie nodded and then was hit with a little pornographic memory of catching him in his birthday suit. "Oh, you have plenty of that for the both of us."

Damon was a little taken aback by the sudden shift in her mood. He smiled. "So is this your way of saying you liked the angle of the dangle?" and he wiggled his eyebrows.

Bonnie's cheeks began to burn. She turned her back to Damon as she resumed her search for a shirt. "No comment, Eyeballs McGee."

Damon snorted at the colorful nickname. "Ah, you're no fun," he snapped his fingers. "Hey, I have an idea. We should go hit up the night life."

Bonnie refaced Damon and stared at him skeptically. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"You only feel that way because you didn't come up with it first. Since we've been up here you've done nothing but shop and work. Get dolled up, toots, you're going clubbing with me tonight and I'm not taking no as the final answer."

Damon marched out of her closet, out of her bedroom with his head thrown back like an Imperial general who just won another victory.

**Scene 23**

There was some sticky and metallic taste in her mouth. Bonnie unconsciously smacked her lips together hoping that might dislodge the taste but it only made it more acrid. Grimacing, she tried to move her body in experimental increments because her limbs felt unusually heavy as if they were tied down with weights. She could still hear the beat of music from the club or tavern or wherever it was Damon had smuggled her off to last night sound off in her head, making her feel nauseous. How many shots did she do? Bonnie wondered and tried to come to a sitting position in bed only to realize something was holding her around the shoulders.

Whatever it was, it was heavy. Slowly Bonnie peeled her eyes open which felt they had been glued shut. Her vision was blurred which caused some minor alarm to go through her, but this blurriness was just a byproduct of being awakened at an ungodly hour. Her neck hurt which meant she had slept on it wrong, which she never quite understood that phrase. How does one sleep "wrong" on their neck?

As she thought of the ridiculousness of her early morning thoughts, Bonnie came to several startling realizations.

One: she was thankfully in her bed at the house she was sharing with Damon, which was a relief.

Two: she unfortunately hadn't slept alone.

Three: the man passed out beside her whom she was wrapped around like a snake was indeed one Damon Salvatore.

Four: now this was the most important part…her hand was on his dick. And it wasn't just laying there. Nope she had a handful fill of Damon.

Bonnie had to swallow her scream.

Okay, Bonnie coached herself. If you make a sudden move he will wake up and you _will _have to explain this. Don't even breathe. Just reexamine this situation before you fly off the handle and accuse him of something he may be totally innocent of doing.

Bonnie looked down at both of their bodies and let out a small sigh of relief that they were both fully clothed. As she turned her head to face Damon, his head was thankfully turned away but there were smears of blood covering a small area of his neck. More than likely, Bonnie had fed on him, and took his blood straight to the head because she couldn't recall a single moment between the time they left the house til now.

Fragments from their night were coming back to her in disjointed pieces. Bonnie remembered doing shots, and she might have danced on top of a pool table or two and maybe possibly be facing a battery charge for punching some woman's lights out, but…

How did she and Damon come to be in her bedroom, passed out in such a compromising position, though?

Currently, she was using his chest as a pillow while her right leg was thrown over his lower abdomen, and her right arm was stuck between their bodies with her hand resting on his crotch.

Heat flared to her cheeks because of the stiff instrument that appeared to be lengthening as time went on.

_Oh, God he's getting hard…_

_Okay, just slide your hand off and pretend this never happened…_

Bonnie's heart rate was picking up and Damon twitched. Bonnie froze and brought her eyes back to him. He was still knocked out.

Slowly she slid her hand away and then Damon groaned. She stilled once more and then reached up to peel his hand off her shoulder so she could scramble out of bed.

She was in the clear the minute his hand bounced against the mattress. Now Bonnie lifted her leg and then rolled away from Damon. She slid across the bed until she could plant her feet on the floor.

Bonnie studied Damon for a moment before grabbing the side of her head. She sneezed once, tried to silence herself, and then sneezed again.

Damon mumbled something incoherently before rolling over and cradling a pillow like it was a body. Well, at least Bonnie knew he slept like the dead.

Sighing, her bladder was demanding she make it to the bathroom and fast before she made a mess on the floor, or she would have to hear Damon joke about having to make a trip to the store to buy her Poise, the adult sized diapers.

Just she turned and inched her way to the bathroom, she knew he was awake.

Damon cleared the frog out of his throat as he stared at the tent in his jeans. "Again like I said, Bonnie…did you like the angle of the dangle?"

Chapter end.

**A/N: In the update that is to follow we will get a flashback of Bamon's night out on the town. I did want to include that this chapter, but I'll wait. And things will be coming ahead with Bonnie and her illness next chapter as well. I hoped you guys enjoyed this. Special shout out to *ishipwhateverthefuckiwantto*and *yousaytroublefollowsyou*. Until next time, love you guys!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry my loves for the long wait for an update. I know in the last update I said I would go into Bamon's night out, but because I've written so many party scenes in my other stories that I quickly lost interest so I basically skim through that in the first part of the story. I want to start to speed this story along and get to the second half. Updates will probably be slow b/c I'm trying to take breaks and give my brain time to come up with interesting scenes so nothing will drag or seem repetitive. So Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Scene 24**

If there was one thing Bonnie learned was that she didn't want to party with Damon Salvatore ever again. There was an uncomfortable silence that passed between them as Damon sat up against the headboard making himself more than comfortable in her room when he should be heading for the exit. Bonnie tried to keep her eyes above his neck and not focused on the blood that had dried in the cracks of his skin and what that implied, and she certainly didn't want to think about where her hand had been only moments before.

Even now, though it was more of a phantom sensation than anything else, Bonnie could feel Damon's hardness expanding under the palm of her hand. She scratched furiously at her palm and then stopped once she realized what she was doing.

"Are we going to pretend like you weren't holding my junk hostage a few minutes ago?" Damon began without preamble.

"Yes," Bonnie replied curtly. "We were obviously drunk and thank God had the foresight to stop before anything…ick happened."

"Ick?" Damon glowered at her. "Honey, a roll in the hay with me would be anything but ick."

"Damon, we're not going there. Can you shuffle on off to your room, please?"

"No, we're going to talk about this."

Bonnie stared at him impassively. "Why?"

"Because I'm enjoying your discomfort obviously."

Bonnie scowled at him.

Damon decided to change tactics. "How do you feel…since you had my blood? Have I told you what a thirsty little thing you are?"

Bonnie's cheeks flared with embarrassment. She stared down at her feet. "I feel fine."

"Do you?" Damon challenged. "You look like you're about to go to your execution."

"Maybe I am," Bonnie mumbled. "I just want to take a shower and get my day going. Is that all right with you?" Damon didn't respond. "Last night was…fun but its over and I'm not looking for a repeat so can we just leave it at that?"

"So nothing about last night bears any merit with you?"

"You helped me out and t-thank you for that."

"Anything else?" Damon pressed.

Bonnie shook her head and could barely look at Damon for longer than a second.

Damon didn't budge and after a minute passed he finally hefted his weight off the bed and headed towards the door, but then he stopped and looked at Bonnie. "Don't forget you have something important to do today." With that said he finally vacated the room.

Bonnie released the breath she had been holding.

Pieces from last night were rushing back to the surface and Bonnie did her best to block them, but they were more powerful and demanded that she examine each memory carefully.

She saw herself being abandoned the second they entered the bar because a few of Damon's groupies came up and snatched him away. Bonnie had been glad because partying with Damon seemed like an okay idea in theory, but putting it into practical application became another matter altogether. The first hour passed without much fan fair. The second hour became slightly more tolerable when a cute college aged guy came up to her and tried to spit a little game, to which Bonnie obliged because she wasn't exactly used to getting hit on. College guy, damn why couldn't she remember his name, bought her a few drinks, had even coaxed her out on the dance floor. He might have nibbled her shoulder, or maybe she nibbled his, the details were fuzzy, but then Bonnie remembered some girl stumbling over to them and then college guy got dragged away.

Bonnie didn't have any proof but she was sure Damon might have compelled that woman to break up her groove.

Hour three Bonnie was perhaps a few sheets to the wind because she hopped up on a pool table and started singing horribly to Ke$ha which took effort considering Ke$ha wasn't the best singer on the planet. Not long after that, Bonnie had to pee like a racehorse, and found herself waiting in line for the ladies room where two women proceeded to cut in front of her because their girlfriend happened to be waiting in line.

When Bonnie politely tried to tell the two cutters where the line ended, they looked Bonnie up and down with snarls on their faces before promptly dismissing her.

Heated, Bonnie clearly heard herself shouting, "The end of the line is back that way! And that's where you two should be!"

One of the ladies turned back to face Bonnie. "Who do you think you're ordering around you, black bitch!"

Bonnie couldn't recall what happened next, she just knew that she grabbed a hand full of dirty blond hair and started pulling. Her foot made contact with someone's stomach, kicking that person into a wall. Shouts and hollers alerted the lone security guard to come and break up the girl fight, and Bonnie had been pulled away by cold, pale-white hands.

"I can't take you anywhere, witchy," Damon had said on the drive back the house.

And once they reached the house that's where Bonnie recalled things got _really_ interesting.

Damon who could binge on alcohol for days and not get anything more than a buzz opened up a few dozen bottles of vodka, Johnnie Walker, Wild Turkey, and a whole bunch of other spirits Bonnie didn't even know he had stashed. She busied herself with turning up the music and bounced around in her heels. At some point Damon asked if he could do a shot off her belly, and Bonnie had shrugged and said why not.

Spreading herself over the coffee table converting her blouse to a mid-drift, Bonnie giggled a bit when Damon poured a little bit of vodka into her belly button.

"That's really not going to do anything for you, you know," Bonnie had said and then briefly looked up at the ceiling unable to witness the fact that Damon Salvatore was going to put his mouth on a very specific part of her anatomy.

"Speak for yourself," Damon admonished and then squeezed a piece of lime between her lips and bent over her stomach.

Bonnie's giggles changed into a slight groan the minute Damon's tongue first burrowed as deep as it could go in her navel, and then he lapped at her skin with long, slow licks that made Bonnie's back arch off the table.

It was over in less than a minute and then Damon's face was hovering over hers, coming closer to pluck the lime from her lips, but Bonnie had catapulted off the table. Damon Frenching her belly was all she and her hormones could take at the moment.

Then the party was suddenly popping off in her bedroom and Bonnie couldn't stop laughing and Damon wouldn't stop dancing like a fairy off its meds. At some point the wind was knocked out of her sails, and she was lying belly up on the bed. Damon had joined her sweaty and slightly out of breath.

Bonnie felt warm all off over thanks in part to the drinks she tossed back, and Damon always ran on the frigid side. So she had cupped his cheek and then her fingers trailed down his neck where her eyes refused to budge.

"Wanna hit?" Damon had asked.

At first Bonnie thought he was talking about sex, but when Damon reached over for her metal fingernail file and held it to his throat, Bonnie licked her parched lips. She hadn't experienced any complications so ideally she didn't need anymore of Damon's blood, but she should probably take a little just as a preemptive measure.

Bonnie nodded her head and then watched as Damon dug her file deep into his skin and dragged it across. She could tell from the way Damon winced he had to apply a lot of pressure to cut himself.

A crimson river flowed and Bonnie snuggled closer to Damon and wrapped her lips around the laceration, and using suction pulled his blood out of the wound and into her mouth. Bonnie remembered Damon groaning and she thought she might be hurting him, but when he cupped the back of her head to keep her steady, she straddled him partly allowing the ecstasy of the feeding to take over and override common sense.

She didn't know this at the time, but Bonnie started to slowly grind on Damon who had taken possession of her hips as she moved slightly back and forth against his chest with her lips and teeth firmly attached to his neck.

An expletive or two had escaped Damon who wanted to tell Bonnie to slow down, enjoy it, but he was too busy enjoying the fact that she was stroking the coals in his oven, and his python was waking up from its slumber.

Bonnie shivered now in memory of how it felt to be pressed so tightly against Damon while drinking his blood. And she shivered again when something he said came hurling back to the forefront of her thoughts.

"_I want to fuck you, Bonnie."_

Plopping down on the edge of the bed because her legs refused to hold her up, Bonnie couldn't believe it. And because she couldn't believe it, she wasn't going to bring it up, and Bonnie was hoping, and if he knew what was good for him, Damon wouldn't bring it up either.

Yet again was what he said all that surprising? Bonnie thought. He was a guy and she was a young woman. Of course he'd want to do _that _to her. But they wouldn't. Not ever. And certainly not while she still had breath left in her body.

**Scene 25**

Pensive, green eyes stared at the telephone wishing she didn't have to do what she promised she would do. Bonnie looked at the door, the only exit and entrance to the room with longing before bringing her attention to the vampire that was hovering next to her. She knew she had put this off long enough and it was time to play the piper or pay the piper or however that saying went. Taking one final deep breath and ignoring the fact her heart was beginning to speed, Bonnie hit the speaker phone button and then punched in the familiar numbers.

The sound of the ringing phone was the only noise to be heard in the room. And just as Bonnie was hoping that no one would answer and she'd be given another day to stall, mercy was not on her side and the line was connected.

Bonnie felt there was no point in trying to sound cheerful because there was nothing to be cheerful about. Of course there was the fact she was still alive, and thanks to the hit of "V" she got last night, she felt as normal as she could get.

"Bonnie?"

The girl in question was thankful it was Caroline who had been elected as spokesperson. Bonnie could convince herself she was only dealing with her blonde friend and not the rest of the Scooby-Doo gang that Damon could hear hovering in the background. Before Bonnie sat down in the home office to make this call she had sent a text out letting everyone know she would be calling at exactly one o'clock because she had news and she was only going to share this once. If you weren't available you'd have to get the details from someone else because she wasn't in the mood to rehash anything or to repeat herself.

"Hi, Caroline," Bonnie replied pleasantly enough.

"We're all here," Caroline told her which unfortunately did nothing for Bonnie's nerves.

Damon kept his eyes on the phone and off Bonnie. He knew this was hard enough and his gaze was known for being intense and intimidating. But he was more than ready to take control if Bonnie showed signs of distress or the TPTB started barreling her with questions she was in no particular mood to answer. He handled crisis a lot better than everyone living on the eastern seaboard wanted to give him credit for.

"Okay," Bonnie said after a second's hesitation. "There's no easy way to say this so I'll just say it. You know I've been doing a lot of magic so about six months ago I went to see my doctor because I was having really bad headaches, blackouts, nosebleeds that eventually it all led up to…seizures."

A collective "WHAT?" sounded through the airwaves.

"Bonnie, oh my God! Why didn't you tell us?" that was Elena.

"When was I supposed to?" Bonnie's question came out much sharper than intended. Lately there was just something about Elena's voice that grated on her nerves. "Alaric needed stopping, Klaus needed killing, my mom got turned, you died; it's just been nothing but one big clusterfuck after another."

"But we're your friends, Bonnie," Caroline resumed leadership of the conversation. "We could have given you blood…anything!"

Bonnie sighed. "I got blood…from Tyler but I didn't tell him what it was for."

Damon imagined there was a blank look on Barbie's face that could rival her customary blank look.

"You got b-blood from Tyler?" Caroline asked slowly.

"Yes, but it hasn't worked," Bonnie admitted.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Caroline sniffled.

"Why would you go to Tyler when you could have come to one of us?" Elena stated emphatically.

"I feel like there's more," Jeremy interrupted suddenly

Bonnie hesitated once hearing his voice. It wasn't until now that she realized she actually kind of missed him. Missed him in the sense that she had grown accustomed to seeing him everyday even if they didn't talk like they used to. Kind of hard to strike up a friendly conversation with the guy who rather cheat on you with a ghost instead of someone who had a pulse.

"Will you all just shut up and let her finish," Damon snapped.

Bonnie looked up at him and he stared down at her before infinitesimally nodding his head.

Damon heard Elena take a deep breath. He imagined she was itching to say something to him, but didn't want to run the risk of turning this conversation farther south than it was already heading.

"Jeremy's right," Bonnie continued nervously. "There is more. I went in for an MRI and they found something." Pause. Deep Breath. Shifted in her chair. "I have a…I have a malignant brain tumor."

Silence.

More silence.

And then there was an explosion. Bonnie didn't even try to make heads or tails of what everyone was saying. It was like listening to several radios playing at the same time while people held conversation in a crowded room.

"I cannot BELIEVE you wouldn't tell us this, Bonnie!" Caroline raged and since she was the loudest Bonnie imagined she was holding her cell phone right up to her mouth. "Why would you keep something this BIG from us?" Caroline gasped sharply as a question came to her. "How long do you have?!"

Everyone stopped bickering with one another in the background to listen to Bonnie's answer to that important question.

"Maybe two months…three tops."

And the expletives flew through the air like confetti. From what Bonnie could hear it sounded like Jeremy was trying to wrestle the phone away from Caroline, but she wasn't giving up, and it really was no contest, but apparently Jeremy was holding his own and then finally won.

"Bonnie," her name sounded like a desperate plea on his lips. "You need to come home."

Now that pissed her off. "No the hell I don't," she fired back.

Damon imagined that several jaws probably dropped in disbelief. Bonnie not wanting to return to Mystic Falls and to the people who "cared" about her? That was borderline blasphemy in their eyes. Damon wondered what his brother had to say about this because he was being awfully quiet, and he knew Stefan was there because he was anywhere Elena was.

"You should be here with the people who care about you, people who can help take care of you," Jeremy argued. "It doesn't make sense for you to be in No Fucking Where, New York with _Damon _of all people."

And Damon just loved the way Jeremy said his name like it was covered in shit. It made him feel all gooey inside.

"What do you think Damon has been doing since we've been here? Filing his fingernails? Terrorizing the locals?"

"Are you seriously defending him to me right now?" Jeremy was flabbergasted.

Damon intervened, "And just who the _fuck _are you?"

"Damon," ah Stefan finally entered the scene, his tone meant to be reprimanding but did little to dissuade his brother from verbally ripping Jeremy a new one.

Damon took a deep breath, "Don't make it seem like I'm the bad guy because you all _failed_ to do what you were supposed to do since you claim Bonnie is _your_ friend, and watch out for her. You can stuff that self-righteous attitude up your fucking ass for all I care. If Bonnie wanted to be in Mystic Falls, she'd be in Mystic Falls, and it's as simple as that. You have a problem with her decision then I suggest you take a long fucking look in the mirror on why she doesn't want to be there before you start trying to take control of the situation or insert your authority, of which you have none, into the equation. Bonnie didn't get this way on her own. She had help in that regard."

The silence was longer this time. Everyone seemingly trying to understand Damon's implication. They knew magic had consequences but they didn't think it would ever be anything of _this_ magnitude.

"Then maybe you need to take your own words to heart Damon 'cause last I checked you're as much to blame for Bonnie's condition as the rest of us."

Oh, when he saw Little Gilbert he wasn't only going to tie the boy's ribs into a bow, but he was going to find some clever way to either make a pencil disappear in his brainless head—which shouldn't be too hard—or make him suck his down dick.

"All right, guys," Elena said, "this isn't helping. Bonnie? Bonnie please let us…find some way to help you. Come home, but if you don't want to come home please tell us where you are and we'll come to you. You shouldn't go through this alone. We miss you, Bonnie. We just want to see you."

Damon put the call on mute and brought his eyes to Bonnie who had been nibbling her lip. "This is your call, Bonnie. You can lay down the ground rules, the terms if you want to see them, and they're going to have to follow them or otherwise no deal."

This entire exchange had been so strange for Bonnie. No one ever really fought over her or because of her before. The only time she found herself smack dab in the middle of an argument was when she, Caroline, and Elena were eight or nine and they were at the carnival about to get on a ride, and Elena and Caroline had wanted Bonnie to sit with one or the other, but since only two people could ride per seat, Elena and Caroline got into a tug-of-war over Bonnie. And Bonnie being the peacemaker that she was decided to ride on the roller coaster with each of her friends, one at a time.

Of course this was much different from that, but that was the only memory Bonnie had to compare this moment to.

"I want to see them…they can come."

Damon continued to study her. "Are you sure?"

Bonnie nodded. Damon took the phone off of mute. "All right, here's what's going to happen…"

**Scene 26**

"You know it's not too late to call this whole thing off."

Damon's voice broke Bonnie out of her thoughts. She had been sitting on the couch watching the flames dance in the fire, sometimes manipulating their shape and height but not doing more or she would have called attention to herself.

"What's the point?" she propped her feet up on the coffee table. "The truth needed to come out and surprisingly I'm glad it's out. Just another weight off my shoulder. This isn't something anyone should face on their own."

Her friends would be here next weekend. Hoorah.

Damon crossed over to the couch and sat down beside Bonnie. He was a little taken aback when she didn't move over to the other end of the sofa. Perhaps drinking someone's blood eliminated skittishness.

"Is that what you really feel or are you trying to be politically correct about the situation?" Damon took a sip from the glass tumbler Bonnie didn't realize he had in his hand.

"Maybe a little bit of both. You know…I've never really had anyone…not since Grams…who really showed they cared about me. I mean," Bonnie back tracked when she felt Damon's incredulous eyes on her. "I know that Caroline, Elena, Jeremy, Matt, and even Tyler in their own way care about me but it's not the same. I've never been that girl that everyone wanted or tried to move heaven and earth to save. It's just weird and it makes me feel funny."

"Like a damsel in distress?"

Bonnie nodded.

"And you know you're too much of a bitch for that," Damon smiled. Bonnie glared at him. "I mean that in the utmost positive way. A bitch is strong, aggressive, fierce, and powerful. She kicks ass and takes names."

"Then I prefer the term BAMF to bitch just for the record," Bonnie stated and redirected her attention back to the fireplace.

Damon smirked. "Noted. We should think about sleeping arrangements," he said after a brief pause. "The shed is perfect for little Gilbert. He'll fit right in with the possums and skunks."

Despite herself Bonnie giggled. "Why do you seriously not like him?"

"What's to like?" Damon chortled. "He always tries to put his snout where it doesn't belong. He's not supernatural and he should get it through his puny little head before he winds up dead."

"Well…in his defense he did take down a hybrid."

"That was pure dumb, blind, never-gonna-happen-in-this-millennium-again luck. Matt took out an Original, an Original trumps hybrid any day of the week."

"So are you saying you respect Matt more because he took out the suicidal Mikaelson?"

Damon looked at Bonnie askance. He could definitely see the interest lining her eyes almost making them glow or sparkle or some distractingly annoying shit like that. Had they always been that green?

"I don't respect anyone who hasn't been alive for more than a hundred years."

Bonnie shifted on the couch until she faced Damon. "Well I haven't been alive for a hundred years. I haven't been alive for twenty. Are you saying you don't respect me?"

"You're different."

"How so?"

"Because you come from a very powerful witch bloodline. I'd be an idiot not to respect you for that alone."

This confession made Bonnie think of something. "When you took me out to the witch house and you said that you protected Emily's line, and I know it was part of some deal in order for her to save Katherine, but why did you agree to it? You weren't yet a vampire then if memory serves me correct."

Damon grew quiet and still. So still Bonnie wondered if he might have fallen asleep with his eyes open.

"I did it because I knew it wouldn't be long before they came after her, too, and if I wanted to get Katherine out of the tomb, Emily's children had to survive so someone down her line would be able to perform the spell. What I didn't know was that _Emily _was the only one who could break it. I broke my oath to the Confederate Army when I went AWOL. I couldn't break it again."

"So that's why…after the first time I refused to give you the necklace back why you couldn't or wouldn't kill me? Because you didn't want to go back on your word?"

Damon shrugged and finished off the last drop of his drink. Bonnie was making him think about things he hadn't thought about in a _really _long time, and it was making him remember how much he had changed in some areas and unfortunately remained the same in others. Frozen.

He looked at her. "It would have been a bad business move for me to kill you, Judgy. Even when I wanted too; especially after you sat me on fire."

Bonnie looked away a bit guiltily.

"Not like I didn't deserve it," Damon said ruefully. "Lexi had been right about me. I was just all the bad parts of being a vampire."

"Lexi?"

"Stefan's BFF that I framed and then killed to get the Council off my back."

He said it so casually that Bonnie wanted to shudder.

She opened her mouth to comment and then closed it. Bonnie already had the answer to the question she was about to ask. She felt it was time for a subject change.

"You remember the night we spent in that really crappy motel?"

Damon smiled. "Yeah, I remember," he said drily.

"What was that proposition you wanted to propose when you thought I was too tense for my own good?"

This time when Damon looked at her and she saw his lopsided smirk and the mischief in his eyes, Bonnie received her answer yet again, but this time around she wanted oral confirmation. She already knew Damon had no qualms about prancing around in front of her naked because he was obviously proud of his body, and if she were honest he had every right to be. But as she thought over the women Bonnie had seen Damon dally with she didn't really factor in as being his type. He liked women he could control and maneuver around like chess pieces. Bonnie didn't fall into that category—at all. And that's what she liked about her relationship with Damon. They weren't on each others radar so to speak, but they were on each others radar but for different reasons. And those reasons were what separated her from the rest of the pack.

And it didn't hurt to know that he respected her when Damon got off on the fact that he respected so few people, and held such low opinions about everyone because they were easy to manipulate. Her, not so much, which gave Bonnie an advantage.

Then she couldn't exactly forget what Damon said to her last night.

"My mind is a dangerous place, Bonnie," Damon changed positions on the couch looking at Bonnie head on.

"So is mine," the young witch hitched an eyebrow in the air.

"Touché," Damon agreed. "You know I love…women," he amended his words.

Bonnie pursed her lips. "You love fucking, you can say it. I'm not a total prude you know."

That admission earned Bonnie a pair of wide eyes, arched eyebrows, and lips in the shape of an O.

"Have you even…?" Damon made a motion with his hand.

"I guess I can't plead the fifth on that seeing how I'm the one who brought up this topic of discussion."

"No you can't, Judgy."

"I've…done something's but not everything."

"Like what?"

"This involves Jeremy if you're that pressed to know."

Damon grimaced. He would be the first one in line to say he didn't want to know deets about _him_.

"I'm trying to pick the lesser of the two evils. Maybe if I insert myself in this recollection it might not be so bad."

Bonnie shook her head. Her sexual history was kind of sad, but Bonnie was not the type of girl who slept or fooled around simply because it was expected of her age and sex. She respected herself and had certain criteria a possible suitor had to meet. Several of those criteria had to be altered once she learned about the existence of werewolves, vampires, and hybrids.

"But you want to know something," Bonnie said suddenly. She didn't go on until she had Damon's undivided attention, and his brand of attention should have made her start squirming, but she had gotten used to his direct looks and was almost impervious to them. Almost. "No matter what took place between Jeremy and I…it didn't feel as intimate as me drinking your blood."

Damon never would have expected to hear something like that from Bonnie. The girl who prided herself on being "hip to him", of knowing what he really was as if she had insider information. So what had been his point of view back then. He was a vampire and he didn't do that good of a job to hide it. But he knew Bonnie had been referring to something far deeper than that secret. She knew he was an asshole, a murderous one to boot, parading around like the savior of Mystic Falls, and she'd have her eye on him like Nick Fury.

"Are you trying to tell me, Judgy that you got off on drinking my blood when you couldn't when you fooled around with Van Heilsing?"

Bonnie pinched her bottom lip to stop from laughing. "No! That's not what I'm saying. You know I'm psychic, right?" Damon nodded. "Well I got a peek inside of your memories the first time we exchanged blood. I mean…the time you saved my life after Alaric nearly drained me."

"Really?" Damon's voice went up an octave. He cleared his throat. "What did you see?"

A far away look came into Bonnie's eyes. "I don't really remember. Things were garbled, gnarled and I thought I might have been hallucinating at first. It wasn't until the first time you gave me your blood since being here that I knew what happened because I got another a sneak peek inside your head. This time around, in the vision I saw, you were still human—I think, and you were tossing a football around with Stefan and then that evil bitch appeared."

Damon laughed lowly. Yeah, he remembered that. "So that's it? You got to look around in my head for a little bit? I thought you would say that you felt like we were bonded, or our souls touched or some other bullshit like that."

"I blocked it."

An eyebrow rose as cerulean eyes narrowed. "Blocked what?"

"Something was pulling me in, Damon and I had to fight it off, whatever it was or it would have taken over. I can't, I can't really explain it any better than that. It wasn't thirst, and it wasn't hunger, it was something stronger than those two things combined. It was like…like a Call or something. A summons."

Damon was officially freaked the hell out. This made him think back to when he used to get his blood rations straight from the human vein, and during this time he had picked up some neat tricks along the way: dream manipulation, summoning the crow, fog, girls he fed on to help get him out of a jam. _Man, _what happened to _that_ Damon, the dark-haired vampire lamented.

"You felt like I was summoning you?" Damon asked uneasily.

"No, not you, but your blood it's like…its a separate entity or something. I know this sounds very Anne Rice or whatever, but there's you, and then there's your blood and it's unique and I'm unique, and two unique things make some really interesting things happen. That's all I can say."

"So you and my blood are having a love affair? Is that what you're trying to tell me, Bonnie?"

The young witch in question rolled her eyes. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying," Bonnie thought for a moment, "if your blood was a song then I'm the only one who can hear it."

When she broke it down like that it _did _seem more intimate than her getting to second or third base with the emo creature from the black lagoon.

Bonnie studied the stupefied expression on Damon's face. "I'm freaking you out aren't I?"

Damon brought his cup up to his mouth only to realize it was empty. "No, not at all. This is a perfectly normal conversation to have with one's enemy," he snorted.

"You still look at me as an enemy?"

"Do you still view me that way?" Damon rebutted.

Bonnie shook her head. "You stopped being the devil in my eyes a few days ago."

To that Damon chuckled and then grew serious. "Do you…nah forget it."

"What?"

Damon stared into Bonnie's eyes trying to keep his gaze locked only on her eyes because if he looked anywhere else he might lose his nerve or allow himself to be distracted with thoughts he shouldn't be having about the witch.

This must be a new record for him. His thoughts had only been about Bonnie. For weeks it seemed. Not Elena. Not his brother. Not his need to do destructive things to pass the time. Just Bonnie. That in and of itself should have been alarming—and it was—but it almost felt kind of normal to Damon. Bonnie was essentially under his care, what or who else should he have been thinking about?

"Do you feel drawn to me?" Damon asked finally.

Bonnie laughed out loud and then cut off her chuckles at the nice little glare Damon was sending her way. "Drawn in what sense?" she inquired carefully.

"Forget it," Damon got off the couch and began to head towards the stairs. It was stupid of him to even start this line of conversation knowing Bonnie would just make him feel like an idiot. Mission accomplished.

A tiny hand on his arm stopped him from ascending the stairs. Damon turned back around, mask in place, as he looked down at Bonnie.

"Drawn to you in what sense, Damon?"

"Look, it doesn't matter, Bonnie. It's late. You should probably rest or something invalids do around this time of night."

Bonnie sighed knowing Damon was putting his blockade back into place. It was an art she practiced to prevent herself from getting hurt, from allowing others to rule her emotions with an iron fist.

With a simple tug of his arm, Damon broke Bonnie's hold on him and went upstairs to his room. The night was still young and he wanted a drink. A nice bloody one that hopefully came wrapped up in a D cup with long legs.

**Scene 27**

Lying on her bed, Bonnie tried to get lost in the book she picked out from the library but she couldn't focus. She was too busy replaying her conversation with Damon in her head. It was obvious that things between them had altered. No, she didn't hate him with the passion of a thousand suns, and Bonnie began to question if she truly ever hated Damon as those in their special circle probably thought she did.

She hated the things he did to people, taking away their choices, and turning their lives into a living hell. As for the man—vampire—himself Bonnie was unsure. Damon might have had one redeemable quality about him and it might be that he went balls out to protect the people he valued, the people he loved. If he was ever afraid of anything it was almost impossible to tell. So there was that. And he was funny although his humor was more misplaced than anything else.

But she learned something else about Damon and that was he tried to be a man of his word.

Bonnie could tell that what she revealed about how his blood called to her or whatever freaked him out. Hell, it had freaked her out too and she had been afraid of something like that happening. It was one thing to live under the same roof as Damon Salvatore, but to also have his blood flowing through her system like renewable energy, and that he was assisting in keeping her alive, made her feel strange.

_I want to fuck you, Bonnie._

And it was that strangeness that caused Bonnie to lie completely on her back with her legs bent at the knees, feet flat against the mattress. Without her consciously aware of it, her left hand began to traverse down her neck, the side of her neck that Damon's fangs had sunk into over a year ago. She no longer felt residual pain whenever she thought of that moment. Instead what she felt was a zing, an electrical spark where fear was not the driving factor. Her fear of Damon had been replaced with something else.

Curiosity.

There was so much about him she just didn't know. Damon was a chameleon; he adapted to his environment to survive and because of that no one truly knew who he was. Bonnie figured Elena might thought she knew Damon, and maybe she did in her own way because of all the hours she logged spending time in his company sometimes by choice sometimes by force. But there were untapped parts of Damon lying dormant and cleverly hidden that not even Stefan had gotten remotely close to touching.

Bonnie didn't think she knew anymore about Damon than a stranger on the street, but in a way she _did _know him. She knew what his skin smelled like, what it tasted like. He was life and death at once and sometimes neither one. He was power and strong will but also desperation. Damon was a walking contradiction who had saved her life, put her life in danger, ridiculed her, and respected her.

In a nutshell he was beginning to fascinate her.

Bonnie shot up to a sitting position. What was she doing?

XXXX

What was he doing? Damon had asked that question of himself he wasn't sure how many times in the last hour. No since last night. He recalled what he said to Bonnie up in her room as she drunk from him.

_I want to fuck you, Bonnie. _Was he out of his mind? Yes he was.

Here he was traipsing through the forest in the middle of the gotdamn night because he couldn't take being under the same roof as Bonnie Bennett and listening to her heart beat. It was annoying and hypnotic in equal measure because it was something he couldn't have. Not saying he wanted her heart in a romantic sense, but the muscle responsible for pumping all nine pints of blood through her body in one continuous cycle until someone of his kind came to put a stop to all of that.

He should be out scavenging the night away in a seedy bar or something, not contemplating his next move where a particular witch was concerned. It was official; Bonnie had gotten under his skin. There were no bones about it, and Damon could deny the truth all he wanted, but Bonnie was a thorn in his ass and he couldn't move, shake, or pluck her out.

Damon began to reason with himself. He must be going through Stockholm Syndrome or something where the kidnappee began to sympathize with the kidnapper. Although he wasn't exactly being held against his will, Damon was willing to make a consensus and say that spending so much of his free time with Bonnie was affecting him.

So he made himself think about and try to get some excitement going at the prospect of seeing Elena after a two-month hiatus. He tried to picture her olive skin, long chestnut Rapunzel locks, that gorgeous face, those large doe-brown eyes that could eat away at his tough guy exterior to reveal the besotted twentysomething year old he used to be. Damon tried to recall the sound of her raspy voice as she would plead with him not to do something reckless to which her protestations would fall on deaf ears, and he'd do whatever the hell he pleased anyways.

Damon tried to think of more intimate details like kissing Elena, but there was nothing. He remembered it, saw himself doing it, but the initial spark he felt after the first time he kissed her and Elena kissed him back was noticeably absent. No, that can't be right. The kiss wouldn't exactly go down in the book of legends or anything, but he certainly had _risen _to the occasion. Now there was nothing except the memory of kissing Katherine's doppelganger.

Before he could control it, Damon was thinking about Bonnie and the quote-en-quote "intimacy" they shared. Blood sharing was something that was and wasn't a big deal. It all depended on the vampire and who that vampire was sharing blood with or taking blood from. Feeding could be as impersonal as making a bank deposit, or as personal as fucking. Damon had experienced nothing more outside of the thrill that high strung Bonnie Bennett needed his blood in order to maintain a certain type of lifestyle. That's all there had been to it, but now knowing that Bonnie blocked his blood from having a different type of effect on her…

Oddly made Damon feel like he was cheated. Which was ridiculous because he shouldn't _want_ Bonnie to want him in any measure and he was positive the same could be said for her.

Yet her words keep popping up in his mind: _if your blood was a song then I'm the only one who can hear it._

_I want to fuck you, Bonnie._

Damon turned around and looked at the back of the house. His eyes then drifted to the second floor, to Bonnie's window more precisely.

"Come to me," he said before he could stop himself and then frowned because that might have been the gayest thing he could have said. Then Damon wondered if he should open up a vein, get some blood going to make this more potent. So he nicked his wrist and repeated, "Come to me."

XXXX

Suddenly the back of her throat caught on fire. Bonnie grabbed her throat and wondered what was going on. Slipping out of bed with the intention of going to raid the kitchen, Bonnie paused about half way down the stairs when she thought she might have felt a nudge. An impulse to suddenly go outside and get some fresh air.

But then she fought that urge because she wanted a glass of water more, but then the nudge to go outside came flaring back with even more intensity.

"Damon?" Bonnie looked up at the ceiling and couldn't hear the vampire moving around in his bedroom.

Bonnie was fairly certain that Damon probably went out like he did every night, but when she saw his car keys and cell phone resting on the table, it was obvious he was still around. Bonnie resumed her trek to the kitchen but it made her feel like she was walking through quicksand. She couldn't understand why it was becoming physically difficult for her to head in one direction when the rest of her body was dictating she move in another. Yet she pushed through, made it to the kitchen, and quickly gulped down a glass of water.

She was strong, Damon would give her that much. When he concentrated he could feel Bonnie fighting against the pull, the summons. After opening up his wrist for the second time, he stood his ground and practically shouted for Bonnie to get her ass outside.

Bonnie nearly dropped the glass in the sink because she felt she had been jerked backwards suddenly.

"What the hell?" and then she figured out what was going on. "Where the hell are you?" she seethed as she ripped open the back door and began stomping to where she detected he might be hiding in the shadows.

Damon could see that Bonnie was mightily pissed so he quickly licked the blood off his wrist and stuffed his hand into his pocket, and tried to develop as casual a stance as possible.

Bonnie marched right up to him and slapped him silly. "I knew I shouldn't have told you!"

Damon covered his stinging cheek with his hand. "Umm ow. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Lying to me right now would be so unwise, Damon. You were trying to summon me!"

"Where's your proof?"

"The proof is in the fact I felt like I had fifty pound weights strapped to my legs when I tried to get a glass of water, yet my body wanted to go in the opposite direction. That's never happened to me before."

"Still doesn't mean I'm up to something," Damon argued guilelessly.

"Let me see your hand."

Damon gave her the one that wasn't stuffed in his pocket. Bonnie folded her arms and then looked at him crossly. Rolling his eyes, Damon removed his fist from his pocket. Bonnie snatched his arm and inspected it under the moonlight.

Her lip curled derisively. "You missed a spot," she threw his arm at him. "I don't like being yanked around whether it's literally or figuratively. Keep that in mind before something bad happens to you."

Just as she turned to walk away, Damon caught her by the arm. "Bad like what?"

"You don't want to know."

"Maybe I do."

"You really are a masochist, and because of that I'll just let you live in suspense."

"Maybe I wanted to see if it would work."

Bonnie merely blinked at Damon. "Now that you have your answer?"

"I won't do it again, Bonnie. I give you my word."

Because it was so dark Bonnie couldn't really discern if that honest look in Damon's face was sincere. She said nothing else as she turned to head back to the house.

"Hey, Bonnie!"

The girl in question paused to look at Damon over her shoulder impatiently waiting for what he had to say.

"You are drawn to me."

Bonnie scoffed and continued on her merry way. She ignored that small, tiny voice in the back of her head that said in more ways than one.

Chapter end.

**A/N: The gang will be arriving and that will be interesting in and of itself. And I'm sure some might think that Bonnie is sire bonded to Damon right now, and I'll go ahead and say she's not. LJ Smith discussed very frequently the "bonds" that do form between vampires/humans who exchange blood frequently, and I want to get into that, not so much Bonnie becoming Damon's mindless zombie and doing what he says to please him. I would never sell Bonnie out like that, but there is a bond between them and we'll see how that affects them and those in their circle. This gon be good! Thank you so much for reading and leaving me your thoughts. Until next time, love you!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello, is anyone out there? If you're following 30 Shades of Red and saw my author's note concerning the fate of my stories, I didn't list this one as one of the fics that would remain on hiatus because I had been on the fence about finishing it. **

**Well, I'm going to try my best, but I guess you should be prepared that this might be a story I'll be working on periodically throughout the year until it's finished. I know it sucks that I can't promise more frequent updates, but that's the best I can promise instead of outright giving up on it. Thank you guys for your patience. This chapter isn't a continuation from the previous one so you don't have to re-read it, but if you want, please help yourself. Here is the latest. Enjoy! **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Scene 28**

Billy's was a dive where a vampire didn't have to be necessarily clever to feed. All one needed was a pair of fangs. It was an open bar in both the literal and figurative sense, and it was at this place where Damon had spent the height of his hedonism. When he woke up in the middle of the night dying of thirst, Damon had dressed only with the intent to raid the local hospital and pilfer a few bags of blood, but then as he sat behind the wheel of the Camaro drinking from a bag was the last thing he wanted.

He wanted blood straight from the source. He wanted to bite something because it had been appallingly too long since he hunted, fed, or killed. _Anything_. Decision made, stomping his foot on the gas Damon drove in excess of two hundred and fifty miles to reach New York City taking the familiar streets which led him to Billy's. He could have gone anywhere but he was a creature of impulsivity as well as a creature of habit, and even Damon liked revisiting his old hot spots. It wasn't often he felt nostalgic but tonight was different.

Swinging open the door he wasn't surprised that the crowd was still thick and heavy inside although it was nearing three o'clock in the morning. That was another thing he relished about NYC; it certainly lived up to its moniker as the city that never sleeps.

Winding his way through the punked out rockers and posers and up to the admission booth, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. It would appear nothing had changed. Not the decorum. The walls were still riddled with spray paint and graffiti, the only thing that seemed have changed were the names of the bands that had been splashed on the walls. It still smelled the same: body odor, dry vomit, and bad cologne. Other than the seediness of the bar the other relic was his long time friend.

"Will," Damon greeted cheerily as he took in his counterpart dressed in a plain white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of black leather pants.

The vampire in question widened his eyes although it was difficult to tell since they were outlined in heavy black eyeliner. Will fidgeted a little before taking a cool stance behind the podium.

"Damon…hey, buddy. Long time no see."

Damon hunched a shoulder as he bobbed his head to the rock cover band that was performing, and energizing the crowd who didn't seem to have any intentions of calling it a night.

"I was in the neighborhood and figured I'd pay an old friend a visit," Damon looked at Will and purposely vamped out his face for a second.

Will leaned against the podium resting his elbows on the ancient wood. "So how you been? We lost touch after the seventies. Still in the business of knocking off people to collect their ID's?"

"I've moved on to bigger things than that, Will. You don't mind if I get a drink? I mean…we are friends, right?" Damon smiled charmingly despite the cold look in his eye.

Scratching behind his ear, Will looked around at all his patrons. In the thirty-five years that's passed since the last time he laid eyes on Damon Salvatore, Will had allowed an open-feeding policy. So long as the handful of vamps he permitted to feed in his club tried to be somewhat discreet, he let them do what they want. Damon was the exception considering he was older than him, which made him stronger. And he certainly wasn't a vampire you wanted to cross or end up on his bad side. Will figured it was in his best interest to look the other way whenever Damon patronized his bar.

Unsure of what state of mind Salvatore was in, Will figured he best play along or Damon being the vindictive bitch that he was would make him pay for it in some bloody yet theatrical way.

"Yeah, sure," Will said after a moment of thinking. "Help yourself, man."

"Thanks…_buddy_," Damon winked and got missing in the crowd.

Standing in the middle of the vortex as women swung their hair around thrashing fellow dancers in the face, and the guys smashed into one another as if they were human bumper cars, Damon scanned the civilians looking for someone worthy enough to drain. He never really had standards when it came to feeding. It went without saying that his preference was women, especially those he wanted to bed, but when pickings were slim and his hunger was too potent to control, anyone would do.

It didn't take him long to find someone who made his fangs burst out of his gums. Damon couldn't remember the last time he felt this ravenously hungry, and a corner of his lips lifted in a smirk. He was eating for two now, technically speaking, and constantly had to replenish his reserves.

Walking up to one of a handful of African American women present, Damon stared into her eyes. Hook, line, and skinner she didn't hesitate to accept his hand as he pulled her into a dark corner. With just the brush of his fingers down her warm cheek, her head naturally reclined backwards. Licking the area he was going to bite, Damon widened his jaw and sank his fangs into dark, rich skin. His eyes closed on impact but then sprang open the second the woman's delicious blood flowed into his mouth.

She was exquisite.

_This _is what he should have been doing with his time. He shouldn't be caring about the survival of a teenaged witch. He shouldn't be holed up in one of his safe houses playing house with a girl he was on the fence whether he liked her or liked irritating her. He shouldn't have allowed himself to be tamed, domesticated, practically fucking neutered all to fit into some mold that was never made for him to begin with. He shouldn't have allowed a pair of doe-brown eyes that shared the face of the first woman he loved to cloud his judgment, and open up that can of worms called _feelings_.

He wasn't good. He wasn't a saint. Damon never held any false pretense about who he was, the kind of man—beast—he wanted to forge himself into being. He enjoyed causing trouble. He loved starting mayhem. He liked centering himself between a pair of magical thighs that for at least an hour he could forget the sins of his past by adding even more sins to his closet.

He wanted to fuck someone up.

After sending the woman off on her merry little way, Damon scanned the crowd looking for the perfect target. Unfortunately everyone was too well-behaved for his liking. He could easily compel someone to throw a punch and start a riot, but he wanted the humans around him to do it themselves.

So he waited until someone was good and drunk and belligerent. It didn't take long.

Two men were arguing near the bathrooms. Damon listened and pieced the story together quickly. Someone owed someone a large sum of money, and that someone was looking to collect. Damon figured he could play judge in this case and speed things along to its inevitable conclusion.

He almost missed it, the first punch being thrown which missed its target by a mile. The "defendant" swung and connected with the ruddy jowls of the "plaintiff" which sent the man sailing into another bar patron who spilled his overpriced beer on his new boots.

Damon was practically salivating as he entered the fray and elbowed someone in the nose breaking bone and cartilage. A crimson river flowed and the scent of blood momentarily distracted him until he was cracked over the head with a bottle. Growling and slowly turning around, Damon cricked his neck, grabbed the culprit by the lapels of his shirt and simply tossed the man in the air. A couple of people broke his fall.

The war began and he laughed madly. He was starting to feel like his old self again.

Unfortunately his fun didn't last for too long before the bouncers moved in to break things up by pepper spraying people. It didn't affect Damon in the slightest, just irritated him to no end. Well, so much for that.

Two obviously drunk vixens nabbed him, pulled him into a corner, and practically attacked his mouth and crotch. Damon allowed it. Stuffed his fingers into some holes before he bit 'em and told them to get lost.

By the time the club emptied Damon had fed on five additional women. Gorging himself on human blood was the closest thing he could get to being drunk. His body felt disproportionate, his equilibrium off, but there was a succulent buzz singing over his body.

_If your blood was a song…only I would be able to hear it. _

Damon shook his head. He had beaten his record of lasting seven hours without thinking about Bonnie or anyone from his life. But now she was heavy on his brain and Damon felt the sudden urge to hop back on the road and return to Rome. Yet if he did, would his actions be proof that Bonnie controlled some part of him? Whether she was aware of it or not, his schedule revolved around hers despite his best efforts to continue to live his life independently.

Soon his thoughts drifted to the women he fed on through the course of the morning. All of them had fallen at exactly 5'4". Three had been black, the others white, two of them had had green eyes, but collectively they had been brunettes.

Taking refuge at the bar and ordering an entire bottle of Jack, Damon chugged and winced at the sunlight that poured into the club through the open door. It was Will's poor attempt to air out the place.

The vampire in question sauntered up to Damon. "You behaved yourself. I gotta say, man I wasn't expecting that. I thought I'd be paying those assholes who work for me to get rid of a bunch of dismembered limbs."

Damon smirked. "I think you're confusing me with my little ripper brother. If I'm too lazy to throw away my trash why would I waste the energy it would take to rip a human to shreds?" he chugged from the bottle.

Will nodded. "So what made you decide to come up here? Still looking for a five foot seven brunette?"

"Hell, no," Damon rolled his eyes. "I'm not looking for anything," well that wasn't entirely true. What he was looking for Damon wasn't even sure it existed, and if it did exist he knew that Will of all bottom feeders wouldn't know where to find it. Will, like most vampires, only cared about blood, rocking out, and making money.

But Damon did lift a brow since Will was the one to bring up the mysterious brunette the elder Salvatore had been scalping ID's for when he was "employed" by Will way back when. He had had his suspicions that the vampire he was in a roundabout way helping to hide was Katherine, but again that conflicted with what he thought he knew. That she had been entombed under the church since the Civil War.

Will picked up his own bottle and tipped it up to his lips. He kept his eyes on Damon. "I take it your humanity switch has been flipped back to on?"

"Relax, Will. I'm not going to haul off and show you your innards if you breathe the wrong way. Just had some drama I needed a break from. That's all," Damon poised the bottle to his lips, but didn't take a sip. He fixed his wild eyes on Will. "Have you ever watched a human die?"

Will looked decidedly confused. "That a trick question? I guess you mean as in a: took too much blood kind of way? Or as in a letting nature take its course kind of way?"

Damon waved his hand around. "The second one. Have you?"

The bar owner shrugged and gulped from the bottle. "A couple of girlfriends. One had breast cancer. It was the saddest shit I've ever seen in my life. Wouldn't wish it on anyone. Why? You know someone who's dying from 'natural causes'," Will made air quotation marks with his fingers.

"Yeah."

"You love her?"

Damon grimaced as if he were offended. "No."

Will snorted. "Sure you don't."

"I don't! I don't even like her."

"Then why are you talking about her?"

Good question to which Damon didn't bother answering. Merely held up the bottle of whiskey and killed the rest of the contents.

"All right, so you don't like her, but she means something to you if you're here in my bar contemplating some philosophy shit. If she's dying, and she doesn't want your blood, transition to be a vampire, what are you going to do? Continue to watch her die? Or leave while the getting's still good?"

Damon thought he had made his mind up about this, but he wasn't a hundred percent sure.

"Do the only thing a vampire can do, Damon."

"Oh, yeah and what's that? Put her out of her misery? Kill her?"

Will nodded like it was a no brainer. "And if you don't want to do it then find someone who will. Otherwise prepare yourself for some rather depressing bullshit." Pause. "But if you feel anything for her…then you should tell her before its too late."

Slapping his hands on top of the bar, Damon rose to his feet. "Welp, I need to get back on the road. See you in another thirty-five years, dick."

"Same to you, bitch."

Damon cracked a smile and whistled as he made his way out of the club.

* * *

**Scene 29**

Bonnie woke with a start. Shit! She was going to be late for her first day of school. Hopping out of bed, Bonnie dashed into the bathroom, turned on the shower, grabbed her toothbrush, relieved herself, before looking in the mirror. How could she have overslept? Why didn't Caroline call her like she did on every first day of school to wake her up? It was tradition because Caroline knew her dad was usually on the road and wasn't around to help her prepare for school. Not like Bonnie needed him around for that. She was officially a high school senior. Bonnie had been driving herself to school since the latter part of her sophomore year. In her eyes, she was practically an adult although legally she was still a minor.

Jamming her toothbrush in her mouth, Bonnie scrubbed away her horrendous morning breath, and then climbed in the shower. She was done within five minutes before toweling herself dry. Snatching the bathroom door open, Bonnie froze.

This wasn't her bedroom. She blinked her chartreuse eyes trying to remember where she was. None of what she was seeing looked familiar or sparked any kind of memory. Turning back towards the bathroom, how did she know that the items she just used belonged to her? She didn't.

Gross! She used someone else's toothbrush and bath sponge. Bonnie wanted to take another shower, and burn her teeth and tongue to sanitize them.

Shaking her head, she tried to remember the date. What day was it? What year? What month? Where was she? She didn't feel like she was a visitor in this house. In fact, Bonnie felt a short of kinship with it as if she had spent a great deal of time in this place. However she couldn't remember how she got here, what she was doing before arriving, but most importantly she didn't know if she was here alone or if anyone was with her.

Maybe Caroline was here. Bonnie located the closet and donned what she could find noting that everything fit her like a glove, and came in styles she preferred to dress in. These probably were her things but she couldn't remember going into a department store to purchase them.

This was just too weird.

Slapping her hair into a ponytail, Bonnie began to check the rooms that were on this floor.

"Caroline, are you here?" she opened up the door across from "her" room. It was empty. Furnished but empty.

She moved on to the next one, finding another empty room. Finally she got to the room at the end of the hall and turned the knob.

"Whoa," Bonnie said as she glanced up towards the vaulted wood beam ceiling with the wrought iron chandelier, over to the French doors that lead to a balcony, before her eyes settled on the massive bed. It was covered with an expensive looking black duvet with body sized pillows on top. The room reeked of masculinity, but this clearly wasn't her father's style. No, this room belonged to someone else. Someone who liked black and leather.

The scent that lingered on the air almost triggered a memory. Bonnie tried to grab on to it as hard as she could but could capture nothing but a snapshot of pale-white skin and fierce blue eyes. Did she know him?

A name came to her, then. Damon? Did she know someone named Damon? Bonnie didn't think so. Quietly slipping out of the room, closing the door after her, Bonnie's chin began to quiver. She didn't know where she was, whose house she was in, or why she had been brought here. None of this was making any sense and no one appeared to be around that could offer up some answers.

Bonnie was used to being alone, but this felt like a different type of alone. She felt abandoned and she didn't like the feeling at all.

Her stomach chose that moment growl demandingly. Rubbing her flat belly, she traipsed down stairs and found the kitchen easily enough. She just had to walk through a colossal living room that was nicely decorated with slightly medieval and modern pieces of furniture and art. Who lived here? Where was _here?_

Making herself more than at home, Bonnie prepared herself a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast. It set off alarm bells that she knew where everything was located inside the kitchen, but she couldn't answer how she knew. Bonnie looked around her surroundings as she ate and wondered if the owner of the house might be somewhere on the grounds. She had to have been a guest here, but it would be nice if someone would come and say hello and let her know what was going on. She had to get to school.

Right?

Bonnie wasn't sure. Finishing up her meal, she washed the dishes, put everything back where she found it and then went out into the backyard.

"Hello!" the young woman yelled and listened to the sound of her voice echoing over miles of land it seemed. The only thing to respond to her call was a flock of birds flying from a tree.

Walking around the stone house, Bonnie came to the front yard where her jaw dropped the moment she saw the lake.

This place, wherever it was, kind of reminded her of someplace you'd see in a Disney movie. The house was rustic, but livable, the grounds were manicured which meant someone was around to take care of it because she was positive she didn't have a green thumb and didn't know the first thing about mowing a lawn.

The sound of tires rolling over gravel caught her attention. Bonnie watched as a cobalt Chevy Camaro drove on the property. She couldn't see the driver too well because of the glare from the sun hitting the windshield. Bonnie shielded her eyes with her hand and waited. The engine was cut off, the driver side door flew open, and a man stepped out of the vehicle.

Bonnie's jaw literally dropped. Jesus, he was gorgeous! Pale skin, black hair, blue eyes, nice body.

Demurely she looked down at her outfit glad she decided to slip into one of the summer dresses that were plentiful in "her" bedroom closet. Her shoulders and arms were exposed, but she was covered down to her feet. The wind made the dress mold to her curves, and Bonnie thought for a second that she should have attempted to put some makeup on. But then she shook that idea away. She wasn't sure who this guy was. She didn't think they were "together", boyfriend and girlfriend because he looked so much older than her. And though Bonnie knew she was pretty, maybe even stunning on a good day, guys like the man staring at her peculiarly didn't really go for girls like her. The wallflower type. No, Caroline was probably more his speed: bubbly, personable, a femme fatale in the making. Or maybe he was with her other friend. What was her name again?

"Bonnie? You okay?" Damon asked tentatively. She was staring at the ground, nibbling on a corner of her lip.

Looking up, Bonnie cocked her head to the side in curiosity. The move reminded Damon of a puppy.

"Um…hi," Bonnie said before smiling and looking at her feet again. God, she was so lame. Her cheeks were blazing.

Okay, maybe he drank some bad rum before leaving NYC, but Damon was positive that the Bonnie standing before him wasn't the one he normally dealt with. This Bonnie seemed shy, timid, reticent, whereas the Bonnie that's grown under his skin like a rash that wouldn't heal liked to scowl at him _a lot_, was feisty and self-assured. Confident. Bold.

Damon approached her and when he was close, lifted her chin with his finger. Bonnie jumped and put a good amount of space between them. She was blushing profusely.

"Have you seen…my friend Caroline?" Bonnie was still looking at her feet but when she found the courage to look at Damon, her pupils dilated.

Oh, great, Damon lamented. Bonnie was having an episode. Isn't that what medical professionals called it when their Alzheimer patients slipped back in time and relived moments from the past?

"Caroline isn't here, Bonnie. It's just you and me. You know who I am right?"

Bonnie's eyebrows furrowed as she stared at Damon blankly trying to remember anything about him. Her eyes trailed over his face before locking on to his blue eyes.

As time shifted from one minute to another, Damon laid a hand on his chest. "I'm Damon. Damon Salvatore."

Bonnie remembered the name that flashed in her mind earlier, but it wasn't exactly lining up with the face she pictured it might belong to.

Damon was pulling on every single sliver of patience he might have. Handling people with kiddie gloves wasn't his specialty, and he could really curse the fact Stefan wasn't here. If there was one thing he could give his little brother credit for was his ability to commiserate and empathize with people. Stefan was more adept at getting people to trust him by speaking in a monotone voice that usually put his undead ass to sleep, but worked wonders on the lesser species—humans. He could use that talent right now because he didn't want to scare Bonnie. Especially when her memory was glitchy.

"I…I think I'm late for school," Bonnie murmured before looking at the ground once more. "Caroline usually calls me to wake me up, but she didn't call. I don't know where I am. Is this Mystic Falls…D-Damon?"

"No, its not. You graduated high school already so you're not late for anything."

Bonnie's eyes snapped back up to him. The blank and uncertain look had been replaced with incredulity. "I graduated high school already? But I…I don't remember anything! How is that possible? Today is my first day of my senior year! I'm late."

"Come on let's go inside. We can talk," Damon reached for her, but Bonnie pulled away.

Anger was rushing to the surface. "No! Who are you?! Why did you bring me here?! What do you want?"

"Bonnie…"

"No, answer me! I don't remember coming here. Where's Caroline? What did you do to my friend?!"

The dark-haired vampire knew he needed to get control of this situation before Bonnie forgot she had powers and unleashed them on him without intending to. He didn't know about anyone else, but he wasn't in the mood to have his brain charred, or his clothes to be ignited in flames while he was still wearing them. Been there, done that, had to use aloe vera for a week!

"Bonnie, calm down," he ordered. "You're just confused right now. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm…we're…friends," he said awkwardly.

"No!" Bonnie grabbed her head because it was beginning to pound. Everything was suddenly too bright, and there was pressure building within her cranium. She screamed.

Damon didn't know what the hell was happening, but the minute Bonnie started to fall, he caught her with one arm and then found himself cradling her in his lap. He didn't even think about how this might set her off anymore and by this point he was done caring. He lifted his wrist to his mouth, bit into it and then pressed his bleeding appendage to her lips.

Bonnie fought against him. Terror, anger, fear, and a litany of other emotions coiled in her jade colored eyes until little by little she began to drink from him.

He needed to help her. He couldn't let her live this like. Forgetting who she was, being scared of everything, losing control of herself because some fucking tumor ate away at her brain. She deserved better than this.

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, rolled down her cheek before landing on his leg. The sky became overcast, the wind picked up in velocity, but soon the weather simmered down, returned to normal urging Damon to pull his wrist away.

Her bottom lip was covered with his blood and it took everything in him not to lick it away. He simply removed it with the pad of his thumb.

They were silent for a while, maybe for twenty minutes, just kind of staring at each other as Damon continued to hold Bonnie like she were a newborn baby or an injured bird. If he kept exchanging blood with her like this he could accidentally change her. Damon had heard it was possible for humans to become vampires without having to die with vamp blood in their systems. All it took was frequent blood exchanges, sort of like a transfusion, and then bam you had an honorary vampire on your hands.

Already he was seeing minute changes in Bonnie. Her skin glowed with a golden iridescence that wasn't there before. The color of her eyes were much too bright to _only_ be human; she was more dexterous, her reflexes quicker. He had taken notice of that the other night when she was arranging books in the library and nearly dropped an entire stack, but she caught every single book she dropped before they hit the floor. She was perched on a ladder at the time, mind you.

"Do you like what you see?"

The sound of Bonnie's voice startled Damon slightly. He blinked and then studied her closely. "What?"

"If you like what you see then take a picture," she pushed away from him and looked around with pursed lips. "Where the hell have you been?"

Damon fell back on the ground—laughing in relief. She was back!

Bonnie rubbed her temple. "It's getting worse."

Damon's chuckles came to an abrupt end. He sat upright on the grass and eyed her. Bonnie looked so sad, so pitiable he had to look away.

"Get up," Damon was on his feet.

Bonnie stared at him in confusion. "Why?"

He sighed. "If you want ants to invade your colony, then you can stay down there, but I would recommend you get up and follow me." Damon walked off in the direction of the barn where he kept his Harley stored. He didn't have to turn around to see Bonnie following him. He could hear the swish of her dress against the grass as she did so.

"We're going for a ride," if there was one thing Damon was good at, he was good at distractions. He was over throwing pity parties with Bonnie. If she wanted to wallow in her impending death she could do so but on her own time. When he was around that wasn't going to happen. Plus it unnerved him and he didn't like feeling unnerved. About anything.

Bonnie gawked at the bike. She could say she had always been intrigued about riding on the back of a motorcycle or driving one herself. Self-consciously Bonnie looked at her dress.

"You expect me to get on that wearing this?" she waved her hand to emphasize her attire predicament.

Damon pivoted slightly and gave her a thorough perusal. Hmm, she should wear dresses more often. "That's part of the fun. Doing the exact opposite of what the rules say. From now on this is Opposite Day. We're not going to do anything the way it's supposed to be done. I guess you can say this is what you kids call a YOLO moment."

Bonnie chuckled and then hunched a shoulder. "Fine. I won't argue."

"Thank the Lord," Damon said dramatically and handed Bonnie a spare helmet. "Still have to be safe, though."

The young witch pouted but accepted the helmet.

"Matter of fact, in honor of Opposite Day…" an up-to-no-good glint came into Damon's eyes that made Bonnie's stomach bottom out to her feet.

* * *

**Scene 30**

And Bonnie was right to worry. Damon was blindfolded, driving a motorcycle while blindfolded as she yelled out directions. Car. Brake. Red light. Curve. Pedestrian. Cop. Old person. Tree. Squirrel. My life flashing before my very eyes.

Rush and vibration. Those were the two words that ran through Bonnie's mind as she clung to Damon for dear life as he sped through Rome, New York like a bat flying out of hell.

The wind felt exhilarating as it whipped against her skin, her hair flying behind her like a banner. The feel of the engine purring between her legs made her mind slip into gutter territory a few times but Bonnie easily brushed it aside.

Damon drove them around until he had to pull over for gas, and then they were back on the road again, tearing up the asphalt, traveling at high speeds, the scenery passing in a blur. Bonnie didn't mind though because this was how she wanted to remember things. Not with acute clarity but in abstract form forcing her to fill in the blanks, write the story herself.

Soon they stopped to get a bite to eat. Continuing on with the Opposite Day theme, they ate dessert first. Bonnie gorged herself on a fat slice of decadent strawberry cheesecake whereas Damon ordered a hearty chunk of apple pie with a side of vanilla bean ice cream. He could be extremely old school sometimes.

Next up were the entrees: veal parmesan, with a mixed vegetables tossed salad served with a red vinaigrette. The twosome finished their meal with an appetizer: spinach and artichoke flatbread, and slurped it down with a Shirley Temple for Bonnie, bourbon on the rocks for Damon.

Stuffed and satisfied, Bonnie patted her stomach while Damon paid the bill. They were back on the bike, sans Damon being blindfolded as they trekked across Rome, New York in reverse. Now that Damon was driving at a less conspicuous speed, Bonnie could take in the sights. Rome was beautiful and quaint and reminded her of Mystic Falls. They drove past Fort Stanwix where she caught sight of tourists snapping pictures of people dressed in Colonial attire, and Lake Delta were boats drifted lazily across the steady surface. This definitely wasn't a place she'd ever equate with Damon and she wondered what the appeal was. If he were trying to keep a low profile to duck his enemies, Bonnie figured it wouldn't make much sense for him to hideout in a glitzy place like Las Vegas, LA, or NYC where they'd expect for Damon to be. No, he would pick a place like this to lay his head.

Or maybe he owned a home here _because _it reminded him of Mystic Falls.

They were back at the cottage while her questions still plagued her. Damon cut the engine. Bonnie took off her helmet, shook out her hair, and then looked over to the lake. It was still too early to call it a night, and she was in a quasi-nostalgic mood.

"Come on," Bonnie motioned with her head towards the lake. "Now, it's your turn to follow me."

Damon, eyebrow arched, stared at Bonnie for a minute before walking behind her. They walked to the end of the pier. Bonnie sat down and tapped the space next to her. Within no time at all, Damon was seated beside her.

They stared up at the sky as it was beginning to fade from indigo to black. A few stars could already be seen with the naked eye, but the moon still appeared transparent.

Sighing heavily, Bonnie studied Damon's profile. What happened this afternoon, what had been happening since he first found her in Pennsylvania scared her because she felt it changing her. She was accustomed to going through hard times. Dealing with a major loss like the sudden death of Grams. Finding her mom only for her to be turned into a vampire. Made to feel as if her life was expendable, didn't matter, didn't count in the grand scheme of things. And for a majority of those events, Damon had been there, either playing a part in her emotional downfall, or he was there helping her.

Bonnie wasn't foolish enough to think Damon was doing all that he had done and was doing to atone for something. He wasn't the kind of person who sought out redemption because he honestly didn't believe he needed it. He was who he was and he didn't care if people liked or agreed with the decisions he made for his life. They were his alone to make. And for that she had to say she admired him for it.

And what she thought she knew of his character he was breaking down those assumptions. Bonnie could finally see herself letting go of the residual anger that lingered in her heart towards Damon because right now he was close to being something of a friend. Daresay, she liked him.

"What?" Damon asked since her eyes were burning a hole through his flesh. He took his eyes off the sky to settle on Bonnie. He wasn't dumb enough not to realize some kind of shift happened in their paradigm. They could now stand to be around each other for a couple of hours without dissolving into an argument. In fact, Damon kind of liked being able to be quiet around Bonnie. Spewing nothing but semi or blatantly insulting vitriol all the time took a lot of energy. Energy that could be put to much better use.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"No."

He smirked. "You look like you want to kiss me, Judgy."

"I do."

Damon's mouth opened out of reflex but then it remained that way. His eyes blinked rapidly and he tried to catch a word or two that was flying around in his head, but he had mental butterfingers. For the first time in a _long _time Damon Salvatore was stupefied.

Bonnie was glad she was able to silence him for a change. "This is Opposite Day, right?" she waited for Damon to nod and he did a bit dumbly. "Well, usually when a guy takes a girl out at the end of the night, the guy moves in to kiss the girl."

"I heard that's how it happens," Damon spoke quietly still uncomprehending they were having this conversation.

"You're going to make me work hard for this kiss."

"Oh, yeah," Damon nodded austerely.

"All right. First let me say this. Thank you. Thank you for coming to look for me. Thank you for putting up my stank attitude," she giggled ruefully. "Thank you for not letting me give up on myself. I had accepted my fate, was ready to lay it all out on the line once again, but you pushed me to fight, and that's what I'm going to do. I want to experience life because even without this tumor there was no guarantee of how long I had. But I'm not scared, I mean I am, but I know I don't have to do this alone. So thank you, Damon for keeping me alive." Bonnie's throat grew tight as she fought the urge to cry.

The blue-eyed Salvatore gulped reflexively. A million "I love You's" would never be able to compete with the fact Bonnie Bennett thanked him. Him of all people, of all vampires when really he should have been thanking her. He had at least twice from what he could recall, and that was tough for him to do. Damon didn't like relying on people, but Bonnie was one of few, and he did mean few, who came through. She was one of the few people he trusted. One of the few people he respected. One of the few people he…liked.

He could say something witty, throw it up in her face that she probably always wanted to kiss him, but this was Opposite Day. Instead he was going to keep his mouth shut and let Bonnie take the lead on this.

Bonnie struck up the nerve to go this far so there was only one thing left to do. She scooted closer to Damon until his thigh touched hers, and then she leaned forward pressing her forehead against his. Their noses touched, her eyes closed, and she felt his cool breath fan against her parted lips. Bonnie hesitated for a moment giving them the opportunity to back out, but Damon didn't move an inch so Bonnie cleared the space between them.

His upper lip was cool but remarkably and surprisingly soft as it sank between her top and bottom lip. Their mouths were connected and then Damon's jaw widened a bit, creating an opening where Bonnie took the plunge and dove her tongue inside where it brushed against his, prodding it to play back.

Her heart beat so fast she thought it might burst out of her chest.

Damon knew there was a reason Bonnie's lips were purposely shaped in the form of Cupid's bow. They were poison tipped arrows that could drug a man until all he wanted was to live off her lips and that deliciously wicked little tongue that was doing naughty things to his. He had fully expected to coach her through this considering the only person he had witnessed Bonnie kissing was Jeremy fucking Gilbert, so it was safe to say dude didn't know what to do to a girl's mouth. But Bonnie was proving another one of his theories incorrect. She was a firm kisser, wasn't holding back, and was showing she knew what to do and proved this was what _she _wanted to do.

However, for as good a kisser as Bonnie was, he was better and took control by devouring her mouth like a man finding an oasis. He cupped her cheek, bringing her closer, slanting his mouth over hers where he swallowed each moan with relish.

Picking her up slightly, Bonnie was now straddling him. Damon buried his hand in her hair, tugging the strands which made her yelp, but he kissed the pain away. He flipped them over placing Bonnie under him, her legs automatically wrapping around his lower back.

Her lungs were screaming for oxygen, but Bonnie couldn't stop, she didn't want to stop. With each kiss Damon was knocking out another brick in the wall she kept her true self encased in. He was reminding her, which each subtle thrust of his hips against her center, that she wasn't dead below the waist. That she was alive. That she could have anything she wanted.

Sensing she needed a little reprieve, Damon began to trail kisses along Bonnie's proud jaw prior to nibbling along her neck. Though he was always interested in drinking blood, right now his only concern, only motivation was kissing Bonnie as recklessly as he felt.

Taking in a much needed breath of air, Bonnie pulled Damon's head away from her lavishing her neck with his tongue and lips and captured his mouth again. They moaned simultaneously the second they were connected, swapping spit, tongues fencing.

Opposite day seemed like a fun idea but now Damon wished he could follow his usual routine because by now Bonnie's dress would be a thing of the past, and his jeans would be around his ankles. For her sake he kept things PG-13 by not grinding his prominent erection against her hot core. He could feel the burn, the call, the sizzle of it through the flimsy material of her dress.

Be a good boy now; be rewarded for it in the future. That was his mantra as he invaded Bonnie's mouth like it was D-Day.

His hands, however, didn't get the damn memo. Damon's right hand balled the hem of Bonnie's dress into a fist before pulling it up revealing her sculpted leg, and thigh. The second the fabric reached her mons he released it and then skimmed his fingers over her soft skin.

Bonnie hissed against his touch. His simple caress sent a slew of messages to her brain that made all the blood in her body redirect to her clitoris in which his fingers were inching their way toward. Grabbing that hand, Bonnie entwined their fingers together.

Damon smiled against her lips and made up his mind that as long as Bonnie wanted him to kiss her, he'd kiss her, and when she wanted him to stop, well, they'd have to do negotiations about that.

* * *

**Scene 31**

Her friends were coming today. Would be here within the next hour or so but that wasn't the reason why Bonnie couldn't stop smiling. She and Damon had remained out on the pier all night alternating between kissing and talking, talking and kissing, but they definitely did more kissing than talking. Even now, as she rubbed Carmex on her raw lips that had been deprived of every single natural oil her body produced, she didn't care. Only smiled like a loon.

Her eyes caught sight of a discolored bruise on her neck. Lower, right under her clavicle was another one. Luckily she owned a sleeveless turtleneck dress that she was planning to don, but Bonnie still covered the areas as best she could with concealer.

"This is pointless," she muttered to her reflection and tried to look stern. Despite that, the expression lasted for all of a second before another ear-to-ear grin split across her face.

"Would you be mad if I said I didn't want you to cover those up?"

Damon's disembodied voice didn't surprise her. When she looked towards the figure leaning against the doorframe that wasn't there a minute ago, Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"Not if you value having your eyeballs in your head. Caroline would claw them out if she knew this was your handiwork."

Clad in all black, looking more than pleased with himself, Damon pushed away from the threshold, strolled behind Bonnie, and brushed her hair aside. He planted a kiss to her neck, then her nook, before resting his chin on her shoulder. Their eyes met in the mirror's reflection.

"Are you having second thoughts about what happened?"

Bonnie thought for a moment. "No. What happens between us is our business." Pause. "If anyone asks if there's a thing between us…"

"They won't," Damon stood to his full height. Bonnie frowned.

"How can you be so sure? We've been living together for months. Caroline already suspects that something may have happened. Stefan at the very least would think you somehow took or tried to take advantage of me. "

Damon leered. "And I can't wait to see the look on my little brother's face when I tell him _you_ were the one to make a move on _me_," he boasted. "My question is, little witch, is there something going on between us?"

Bonnie looked him up and down before saying, "Bitch there might be."

Damon chuckled, winked, and became still. "It's time to get your game face on. I hear them pulling up."

Bonnie's heart began to beat nervously. This was the longest she had ever gone without seeing her friends and now that they were here and she was going to face them again, and especially how she left without saying a word, not to mention the atom bomb she lobbed on their heads about her tumor, she was more than a little fidgety about this reunion.

Damon left her bedroom and Bonnie quickly changed into her clothes, and tried to hide the evidence of what they did last night. Part of her actually wanted to flaunt her hickies, but it was never a good thing to advertise the fact you had been branded and by a vampire at that. Still, Bonnie wanted to say without having to say it, that things were different between her and Damon. And if someone were harboring feelings for the elder Salvatore they might want to rethink those feelings.

What was she saying? That wasn't who she was. She didn't throw up her fists ready to fight someone, let alone a friend over a guy. Damon was free to make his choice just as she was free to make hers. Nothing was etched in stone between them, and with her future uncertain, Bonnie was positive getting involved in anything wouldn't be smart. However, there were things she still wanted to experience even with the limited amount of time she had. She would just take things day-by-day and definitely not rush into anything.

As she walked down the stairs, Bonnie heard car doors open and slam closed followed by the sound of murmuring voices. Her stomach lurched and she clamped a hand over her mouth wondering if she had time to make a mad dash for the bathroom. She didn't, told herself to get it together, and then headed to the front door.

Damon was out there basically acting like a bouncer barring their guests from rushing inside. He stared at each one: Caroline, Jeremy, Matt, Stefan, and finally Elena who looked more than ready to tackle him to the ground in a vicious hug.

"Where's Bonnie?" Caroline was the first to ask the question that was on everyone's mind.

"She's inside. Wait," Damon shifted to keep his guests—inwardly he groaned—from trampling his ass. "Let me lay down some ground rules."

"Are you serious right now?" Jeremy hitched his book bag higher on his shoulder as he glared at Damon who glared right back.

"Jeremy, just hear him out," Elena addressed her brother. "Go ahead, Damon," she moistened her lips and brought her eyes back to Damon. She couldn't explain it. The emotions cresting over and through her as she stared at the vampire she literally spent everyday with for the last two years, but had been separated from for the last three months slammed into her. Elena was more than ecstatic to see Damon who was just as she remembered him. Haughty, commanding, hot.

She dropped her eyes to study her sneakers. No, her feelings for Damon were platonic. She was in love with Stefan.

Stefan eyed his brother, happy to see him, but equally concerned because he could read Elena like a book. Could almost sense her thoughts, and what he was transcribing didn't sit well with the younger Salvatore at all.

Damon didn't smile at Elena or anyone. He looked nothing but annoyed.

Damon continued. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted there are some ground rules that will have to be abided by at _all _times. No guilt tripping," he glowered at Caroline who folded her arms defensively over her chest. "No making this into something about you," his cerulean gaze landed on Elena who instantly looked away. "No brooding or sorrowful looks," that was directed at Stefan. "No love unrequited, creepy stalker stares," he looked Jeremy up and down in disgust. "No dumb jock jokes, that's mostly for my benefit," Damon fixed his eyes on Matt who rolled his in return. "You don't bring up her illness unless she brings it up, and believe me she won't. So the moral of the story is: you break my rules I break my foot in your ass. We clear?"

There were disgruntled murmurs. Pleased with this, Damon looked over his shoulder back to the house and nodded his head.

Necks craned as everyone tried to catch a glimpse of Bonnie as she slipped out of the house. Several jaws dropped. Bonnie certainly didn't look like someone diseased and dying. To the vampires she looked freakishly healthy, but to the humans she looked like a supermodel that could launch a thousand erections simply by smiling. And she was smiling—tremulously, even if her eyes bespoke of how nervous she was to come face-to-face with everyone.

Bonnie didn't get the chance to reach the group before she was swarmed and locked into tight embraces by her two best friends. Her face was lost in a nest of blond and brunette hair. And it wasn't until now that Bonnie realized how much she really did miss her girlfriends even if her relationship with one was on slightly shaky ground.

"Hi," Bonnie said and laughed as her eyes lined with tears.

Caroline pulled her in for another hug trying not to crush her spinal cord. "I've missed you so much!"

"I missed you, too," Bonnie wiped her tears away before looking at Elena whose eyes were red rimmed. Tentatively Bonnie hugged her again.

Stefan walked over to his brother as they observed Bonnie greet Matt who lifted her off her feet and swung her around before she was pulled into Jeremy's arms.

Damon stiffened a bit but remained rooted to his spot. However he did take a step forward when the little fucker tried to kiss her on the mouth, but Bonnie blocked it by presenting her cheek instead.

"Damon," Stefan said and frowned as he took note of how intensely his brother was staring at Bonnie. That piqued his interest, but there was something far more important troubling Stefan.

He wasn't sure if the others picked up or noticed _how_ different Bonnie was, physically speaking. She looked like her, but she looked ethereal, goddess-like, and this only added up to one thing. Tossing his arm over Damon's shoulder, Stefan began to lead him away.

The dark-haired vampire wanted to dig his feet into the ground and shake his little brother off him, but he allowed Stefan to pull him aside.

When they were some distance away, Stefan dropped his arm.

"What?" Damon questioned tiredly. He already knew what was coming.

"Exactly how many times have you exchanged blood with Bonnie?"

Blue eyes moved heavenward. "I know what I'm doing."

"Damon, if you exchange blood with her again, she could change. She's already changing. I can see it."

Facing his worry wart of a brother, Damon braced his hands on Stefan's shoulders and applied pressure. "Like I said, brother, I know what I'm doing. Besides, my blood isn't the only thing I want to fill Bonnie Bennett up with," he slapped Stefan on the cheek and winked.

Chapter end.

**A/N: I know on the show they've hammered it into our heads that the only way to make a vampire was to die with vampire blood in your system and then feed on human blood. I'm keeping that part of the mythology, but I'm adding LJ's version as well, that if a vampire and human frequently exchanges blood, that human will slowly start to turn into a vampire. Yes, I know Damon hasn't fed on Bonnie…yet, but I still want to illustrate the changes Bonnie is experiencing because of her frequent "feedings" with Damon. And this, of course, will have an impact on things. The gang is here so we'll see if this will staunch or buildup Bamon's growth. I can't promise when the next update will come, but hopefully it'll be before summer is over. Thank you so much for reading, guys. Until then, love you!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I was having Bamon feels but couldn't exactly decide which Bamon story to update, but then I realized I haven't touched this in a while so I gave it a go. It pretty much picks up from the last chapter with the gang all arriving. Thank you guys so much for the reviews from last chapter and your patience with me as I slowly work my way through updating my stories. Enjoy!**

**Special Note to Kiara:****If you're reading this, I know you've been dying for an update to Don't Ask Don't Tell, I'm battling writers block with that at the moment; and don't quote me on this, but I hope to update 30 Shades of Red sometime next week :)**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Act II Scene 1**

**_A muscle flexed in his sculpted jaw making her wonder if he was hiding a yawn. More than that, the sight of that working muscle sent a shiver of heat through her. She didn't know why he was so irresistible, yet something in her wanted to walk up to him and rub against that long hard body and feel every inch of it on her naked skin… (_excerpt from Sherrilyn Kenyon's _No Mercy_).**

There was a lapse of silence that followed once everyone piled inside the house, automatically reducing it in size. Several pairs of curious and cautious eyes were on her, but her eyes were glued to the specimen holding up the wall, arms folded over his chest, muscles on display thanks to the short sleeves of his T-shirt, hair falling over his forehead and concealing those eyes. That quote came to Bonnie and she couldn't find it more fitting. Her attention dipped to the ironical twist of those rose red lips and he appeared to be in deep thought about something or having a private joke.

Someone touched her arm, and she felt that cold jolt of death that always happened whenever her skin came into contact with the undead. Bonnie cleared her throat unnecessarily and reluctantly tore her gaze away from Damon and planted her eyes on the people surrounding her. Crowding her.

So many personalities under one roof, this would be interesting to say the least.

"Here's the house," Bonnie waved a hand around. "I can give you the two dollar tour."

Damon snorted which drew the vampires' attention since they were the only ones to hear. He felt Elena's gaze linger on him the longest. It was a little difficult to resist the urge to meet her gaze and probe her as customary. Instead he kept his pretty eyes on his boots. He'd need to buy a new pair soon. The toes of his current pair were severely scuffed.

Spontaneously, Caroline wrapped Bonnie in her arms again, squeezing her for dear life. "It's _so _good to see you, Bonnie."

"Yeah, not sure if my ribs are happy to see you," Bonnie groaned. Caroline let go looking contrite, and mouthed "sorry".

As Bonnie showed everyone the living room, den, library, and the kitchen, Damon had opted to remain behind. However, the second the group made their way upstairs to the bedrooms, and Bonnie walked past, he grabbed her ass. Bonnie snapped her head to glare at him but the glare melted into a smirk the second she saw mischief deepening the color of his iridescent orbs.

"You are going to pay for that," Bonnie whispered, quickly flicked her eyes upstairs, and then pressed a chaste kiss to Damon's lips. She left him muttering in complaint because there had been no tongue.

Once upstairs, Bonnie opened the door to her room. From the expression on Caroline's face taking in the dark canopy bed, rustic vanity set and dresser, and the porcelain bathroom she was more than impressed.

"I'm rooming with you," Caroline flounced on the bed and fell backwards on the pillow top mattress her flaxen fair spread around her like a halo.

Bonnie figured as much and left her to mark her territory. "There are three other bedrooms on this floor. The one down the hall is Damon's."

Elena brightened at that to which she was glad no one was paying her the slightest bit of attention. She was going to have to keep a lid on her responses to Damon, yet she couldn't help but question why she was feeling so anxious and restless. For his attention. Guilt grabbed a hold her demanding a piggy back ride, and the weight of it wiped the building euphoria off her face and made her shoulders slump. She stole a glance at Stefan. He was hoping they could reconnect on this trip, get back what they had, but Elena no longer saw herself as the girl he fell in love with.

Things were bad between them lately, and Elena honestly had no idea how their relationship got so far off track. Stefan had a hunch but he was pleading the fifth as not to upset her. Elena had her theories. One of them had disappeared to parts unknown.

The group shuffled over to the room across the hall from Bonnie's.

"Elena and I will take this one," Stefan slipped inside and deposited his bags. Dutifully the doppelganger followed suit.

That left one more vacancy to which Matt and Jeremy battled for it over Rock/Paper/Scissors. Jeremy lost. Matt beamed and hustled inside to dump his things.

Bonnie snickered behind her closed fist and found herself alone with her ex. Everything about Jeremy was inconsequentially the same, but physically speaking it appeared he had been hitting the gym. Unbeknownst to one another they had been appraising each other looking for chinks in armor, or any tell-tale sign that it was okay to touch. Silently Bonnie walked closer to Jeremy who didn't waste another second to gather her in his arms. It did smart earlier when she deflected his kiss, but now that they were partially alone, maybe now she would be more receptive to the idea.

Resting her cheek against his chest, Bonnie inhaled Jeremy's scent and it flooded her with memories, but then the memories morphed into nightmares and she pulled away. What they once had was gone and it was imperative they kept certain boundaries in place between them. Nothing about their status was going to change.

Shyly, Bonnie looked up at Jeremy and noticed that a tick was hammering away at his jaw. "I should show you the basement. There's a pull out couch down there," the young witch said, pivoted in her sandals and made her way downstairs and didn't stop walking until they reached the furnished basement slash entertainment room.

"A pool table...things are looking up," Jeremy dropped his bag on the sofa that would convert into his bed for the duration of his stay in New York.

Bonnie ran her fingers along the green felt top of the Brunswick table. Her pool game had gotten better because she had more time to practice. Whenever sleep wanted to be elusive and Damon was off having fun, Bonnie would venture down to the basement and play one game of pool after another. She was no shark but she was getting awfully close.

Jeremy pensively chewed a corner of his lip debating if he should launch into the questions he had prepared on the drive up here. He could give a damn about Damon's warning and rules, and if he wanted to Tango Jeremy was down. He started kickboxing lessons, and he was sure he could last a good ten minutes in a fight with the elder Salvatore if he didn't automatically snap his neck.

"How have you _really _been, Bonnie?"

The girl in question sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. Not to say Jeremy was treading on dangerous ground, but her defenses immediately raised, and she felt the elastic leash on her anger stretching until it nearly tore in half.

"I'm fine."

"You look amazing," Jeremy complimented or at least he hoped it sounded like a compliment and not an accusation. Bonnie looked freakishly beautiful. "You don't look sick at all."

"Your point?" Bonnie may have growled. She had caught Stefan giving her side-eye like he suspected something when he finally stepped up to the plate to say hello. Receiving the third degree about her looks was the last thing Bonnie wanted.

Jeremy gulped, purposely ignoring the warning signs to back off. "Look, you can't expect us to pretend that we don't know you have a brain tumor, and act like everything is all fine and dandy. I'm worried about you. We're all worried about you. Damon basically has you here living in denial and I don't want to do that."

"First of all, Damon doesn't have me living in anything. Believe it or not he was against me keeping what was going on with me a secret. He was the one to convince me it was time to tell the truth."

Jeremy snorted rudely. "_Please_! You want me to believe that asshole actually thought of someone else beside himself…"

"And this asshole told you what would happen if you brought this shit up. I wasn't playing, Jeremy," Damon stomped down the stairs, eyes a frightening shade of silver. He didn't stop walking until he stood toe-to-toe with Jeremy who surprisingly held his ground. Given any other day Damon might have respected him for it, but today wasn't that day.

Bonnie stood and watched. Her eyes going back and forth not sure what to expect. Some kind of giddy emotion warmed her and she barked at it to go away. Damon hadn't killed anyone—that she knew of—in a really long time and Jeremy was one of his favorite targets, which ultimately spelled disaster for the seventeen year old boy. But she wasn't going to move a muscle. She wanted to see how this would play out.

Jeremy poked Damon in the chest. "You should have told us the truth the minute you found out. We lost time with Bonnie because the two of you decided no one else deserved to know what was going on."

Damon stared at the finger that was attempting to make a dent in his chest. He grabbed Jeremy's wrist and turned it sharply, but not enough to snap bone, pull his cartilage—yes, and grinned in satisfaction as Jeremy began to wince.

"You want to keep this hand I suggest you don't touch me _ever _again. And before you climb behind your pulpit to preach to me, take into account that it was Bonnie's decision. And she's the only reason you freeloaders are here to begin with. So we're going to do things her way whether you like it or not." With a single thrust, Damon pushed Jeremy who tripped and thankfully landed on the couch and not the concrete floor. "You bring this shit up again and I will personally haul your ass out of here, Gilbert. Bonnie doesn't need your whiny ass stressing her out, and I don't want to hear it."

Bonnie looked on as Damon made his way back upstairs. He winked at her before disappearing from view. The second he was gone, Bonnie went over to Jeremy who jerked away from her touch. He made a fist with the hand that Damon nearly broke.

"I hate him," Jeremy seethed.

"Hate him all you like, but please, Jeremy…I don't like to think or talk about what's happening to me, but it's all I seem to think and talk about. Damon is just looking out for me."

"I don't need you to defend him to me," Jeremy rose to his feet and glared at Bonnie. It didn't escape his attention that she never tried to intervene like she would have done in the past. She just stood there and watched. But then again, why should she come to my aid? Jeremy questioned. He screwed up and lost Bonnie as a result of his infidelity, and therefore whatever allegiance that still lingered between them was gone now.

Bonnie held up her hands. "I don't want to fight with you so I'm going to leave and let you get situated. We're having a barbeque and you can join us if you want. If not, guess I'll see you later."

"Bonnie wait," Jeremy detained her by the forearm and turned Bonnie around to face him. "I'm sorry. I don't want to fight with you either and cause you stress." Pause. "I'm just really happy to see you."

Smiling demurely, Bonnie nodded. "I'm happy to see you, too, but no more antagonizing Damon, please. I'll talk to you later, Jer."

Making her way back to her bedroom, Bonnie wasn't surprised to find Caroline unpacking her bags and making herself right at home.

"Just so you know I heard everything that just happened," Caroline paced into the closet where she hung up her clothes.

"Of course," Bonnie closed the door and then climbed up on the bed.

"Jeremy is in love with you," the blonde vampire exited the closet and stood at the foot of the bed. "He was driving us _crazy _on the drive up here asking this and that…about you."

Bonnie made a face but no comment. Caroline chuckled softly. "Any other day that fact would have made a candle burst into flame, but there's nothing if not a look of irritation on your face. So you're finally over Jer-bear?"

"I've _been_ over him, honestly. I can appreciate Jeremy's…whatever, but it's just annoying. I would believe him more if he fought this hard for our relationship and not allowed himself to get caught up with that stupid ghost," Bonnie pulled at the neck of her dress. The material was scratchy and making her hot. Getting up, Bonnie felt a wardrobe change was in order.

She was up and on her feet, walking into the closet to put something else on.

Caroline tracked her with her eyes. "You seem different, Bon. You kind of remind me of the Bonnie from sophomore year before she found out she was a witch."

Bonnie stepped out of the closet—brow furrowed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you seem…I don't know…like you've lost some baggage that's been weighing you down…more assertive. You remind me of the Bonnie that would snatch a person bald if they addressed her the wrong way. And you look," Caroline gave Bonnie a thorough perusal, "like a fucking goddess! Are you using cosmetics from Mac's new line?"

"No," and with that Bonnie waltzed back into the closet to resume her search for a new outfit. "My improvement in looks and attitude must be a product of not having to rush off everyday to save lives, you know."

"Hmm. And Damon seems _awfully_ protective of you."

"Yeah," Bonnie muttered. "So?"

Caroline folded her arms over her chest and dropped her weight on the bed. "My memory might be a little rusty, but Damon has only flexed his protective muscle towards two people: Stefan… and Elena."

Bonnie dropped the jeans she had pulled off a hanger as her heart stopped for a moment before resuming its normal beat.

"Why are we talking about Damon?" Bonnie questioned wanting to get off this road and detour to something else.

"I just find it astounding that the two of you seem close."

Yeah, that was one way of putting it Bonnie thought and slipped out of her dress. She threw on a pair of black skinny jeans, followed by a sleeveless top that did little to hide the large hickey on her neck. Instantly she felt better, freer, but she knew she was going to get pounded with a lot of questions about that love bite the minute it was spotted.

"We've been living together for a few months…hostility doesn't make for a real conducive living environment, Caro. Not to say there haven't been bad days. It's _Damon _after all."

Caroline laughed.

Fluffing her hair around her shoulders, Bonnie left the safe confines of the closet and hooked a sharp right to enter the bathroom. She rifled through her cosmetics bag looking for her concealer, but then she stopped and looked at the abrasion on her neck.

Gently she prodded the raw and discolored area with her fingers and smiled a little. She didn't want to hide it and she knew even attempting to do so would only make it look worse. So Bonnie left it alone. After all she had nothing to be ashamed about. It was no one's business what was going on between her and Damon. Things were still very much new between them; anything was liable to happen. Yet, Bonnie couldn't ignore the fact she was a tad bit concerned about Elena being here and how that might influence Damon's behavior. Everyone on this side of the equator knew he had unrequited feelings for Katherine's doppelganger. Feelings Bonnie was sure Damon had yet to work out in his own head.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Bonnie halted in the doorway and waited for Caroline to see the hickey.

It didn't take long.

The blue-eyed immortal was standing in front of Bonnie, moving so fast that the witch's hair flew in the air for a second. Her neck was jerked to the side.

"Ohmigod!" Caroline squealed and then held Bonnie out at arm's length. "_Where _did you get that and by _whom_?"

"Does it matter?" Bonnie inquired.

Caroline's hands dropped to her hips and she pursed her lips in disapproval. "That's the dumbest question you've ever asked me, Bonnie. Of course it matters!"

"Hey," the door to the room opened and Elena walked in. "What's going on?"

"THIS!" Caroline pointed at Bonnie's mark.

Chestnut colored orbs widened and Bonnie found herself surrounded by both of her friends. And feeling trapped and under a microscope.

"It's not a big deal," Bonnie pushed her way between them and placed her sandals back on her feet.

"Not a big deal my ass. You're hooking up with someone and don't want to spill any of the deets. I feel betrayed," Caroline informed dramatically hands raised to the ceiling. "Who is he? Is he hot? Does he have big hands? Are you going steady? Is he in college? Older? Younger? I know you like 'em young," she winked.

Elena kept quiet during the exchange when normally she'd be just as eager as Caroline to hear details. Bonnie wasn't really known for kissing and telling, and Elena was hoping one of her fears wouldn't be realized. She had heard the whole exchange that happened in the basement, and Caroline's assessment about Damon was pretty accurate. The list of people the elder Salvatore cared about was exceedingly short, but there was no denying the vehemence in Damon's voice when he ordered her brother to leave Bonnie's illness out of conversation.

Shaking her head back and forth, Bonnie tried to suppress her laughter. She kept her eyes off Elena whom she sensed tension engulfing her like smoke. "Right now the only thing I'm worried about is hunger. Can we all go downstairs and help with the barbeque I have planned, and I'll answer your questions later?"

The blonde vampire huffed whereas the brunette shrugged.

"Fine," Caroline grumbled moodily and followed Bonnie out the room with Elena in tow. She would let Bonnie escape her interrogation for now, but it would happen. Tonight.

**Act II Scene 2**

The barbeque was in full swing. Damon was manning the grill, Matt and Jeremy were tossing around a football and arguing over some game they watched the night before. Stefan was filling coolers with ice and beer. Caroline had taken up the helm of directing the womenfolk on certain chores because she liked being commander-in-chief.

When she had a moment to slip away, Bonnie sauntered over to Damon who watched her as she approached. He resumed his task of flipping burgers and adding his home made sauce to the ribs.

It was a bit annoying that he couldn't do some of the things that had been on his mind to do to Bonnie. If her friends weren't here breathing up all his oxygen Damon would be dousing his special sauce over her body parts that tickled his fancy. Instead, he had to act aloof and indifferent with her around. It would keep the heat off his back for a couple of days, but Damon was unsure if he had the patience to wait that long before shit hit the fan.

"Here taste this," Damon held a wooden spoon out towards Bonnie who eagerly sampled the maroon colored sauce.

Her taste buds exploded. She licked her lips and blushed profusely as she noticed Damon's eyes were glued to her mouth. "That's really good. Something tells me it's not store bought."

"I knew you were smart for a reason," he teased and got a shove for his efforts. "I see you're not hiding that hickey on your neck. I gotta say, Judgy, I approve."

"Shush."

"Don't shush me. I also know you haven't coughed up the identity of the one who put it there."

Bonnie wondered for a second if that bothered Damon. "If I did I think it would be a certain _person _being cooked on the grill," she whispered.

Damon smirked. He couldn't disagree. Stefan had already jumped on his ass about his frequent blood exchanges with Bonnie. He could deal with him and his whining. Jeremy had two strikes against him. Matt was being smart and keeping his mouth shut. Vampire Barbie was too busy harping out orders to take much notice of his and Bonnie's whispered conversation to put two and two together, and Elena…Damon knew she was waiting for the right time to finally approach him. He could admit to being a tiny bit morbidly curious about the state of Stelena's relationship. Damon could tell things were strained by the way they _weren't_ simpering over one another.

"You feeling okay?" Damon wondered nonchalantly.

"I thought the rule was no one could talk about how I felt?" the young witch challenged.

"I'm the exception of course because this is my house. My way or the highway; now answer the question. You've only had to deal with me for the last few months, and you're still here which is saying something. I'm as healthy as a horse but even I'm feeling stressed the hell out with everyone here."

Bonnie thought over her answer before replying. "I feel fine. I'm not tired or dizzy, no memory lapses, or mood swings. No vision problems. I'm doing good," she beamed.

Damon wished he could return her smile. Only one day had passed since the last time Damon gave Bonnie his blood, so she should be all right for two days, three at the most. That worried him and he couldn't help but hear Stefan's monotone voice harping in his ear, warning him of the dangers frequent blood swapping with a human could lead to. Bonnie would skin him alive if he accidentally turned her, and he knew he should tell her just so she'd be aware of the repercussions of what they were doing.

Ugh, he hated doing the right thing.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," he said.

"What?"

Damon's arm brushed against Bonnie's giving her chills. She stared up at him but he had already gone back to tending to the various pieces of cowhide sizzling on the grill. Bonnie wanted more than anything to kiss him, so much that her lips were actually tingling. Sneaking around could be fun, but a nuisance at the same time. Interruptions were the worst.

Uncaring of who saw or what they might think, Damon wrapped an arm around Bonnie's shoulders and pulled her flush against him. They looked like twins dressed in all black.

"My room—midnight. Don't be late," he spoke to her in Latin.

Easily translating what he said, excitement kicked started Bonnie's heart. It was pounding behind her sternum and she was finding it absolutely hard to keep still. Her green eyes met Damon's and she nodded in agreement. Tossing him a smile she reluctantly slipped away.

Stefan's Latin was a little rusty but he thought he got the gist of what Damon just said to Bonnie. Instead of approaching his brother, Stefan went over to Bonnie who was seated at a picnic table un-shelling ears of corn.

With her partially distracted, Stefan still couldn't ignore the changes in her appearance. Bonnie's eyes were as green as the blades of grass under his feet, a golden hue—undetectable in human's eyes—reflected in her skin. Her hair was thicker and as black as night. Before it had been more chocolate with interwoven strands of auburn and cinnamon, but her locks were as dark as Damon's.

Bonnie snapped her head up. Her eyes narrowed at the younger Salvatore. "Why are you staring at me?"

Startled, Stefan dropped his eyes to his boots. "Sorry. Didn't mean to freak you out," bravely he looked at her once more. "Do you need any help?"

"Not really."

So far that was the longest conversation they've had with one another since…since shit Stefan couldn't exactly recall the last time he spoke with Bonnie at length since before she left Mystic Falls. Their contact had dwindled down to nothing.

It wasn't until now that Bonnie realized she didn't like Stefan. Not the way she used to—at least. There had been a time she would and had done anything Stefan asked of her because she believed he was her friend, thought she was important to him; but the minute he turned on her all to save Elena's life, those feelings of friendship Bonnie felt for Stefan went out the door.

She had kicked hell to Damon for what he did to Abby, and in his own way he had earned her forgiveness and respect back. Stefan had yet to do that. In all honesty she didn't know why he was here but she knew why at the same time. Whether he tagged along so he could be close to Elena, or pay his final respects to the dying, Bonnie was certain she didn't want the younger Salvatore around her. At all. Seeing him brought back all those feelings of inadequacy and unimportance it had taken her a painstakingly long time to deal with and get rid of.

"I don't need any help, Stefan," Bonnie reiterated since he didn't take the bait to get lost.

Stefan was about to shuffle off, but then an idea came to him. He wanted to see for himself how much danger she was in, in turning.

He purposely dropped the bottle of beer in his hand, eyes on Bonnie who had her eyes on the ear of corn in her hand. Her left hand shot out—blindly, and caught the bottle before it crashed to the ground.

Realizing what she did without conscious thought, Bonnie looked at the bottle in her hand, then Stefan who didn't look amazed only peeved, before dropping her gaze to the bottle once more.

"I thought vampires weren't clumsy," she handed Stefan his drink back.

"Typically we aren't. Nice reflexes," he remarked and then glared at Damon over his shoulder prior to fixing his bluish-green eyes on Bonnie. "Bonnie can I talk to you about something?"

Sighing heavily, Bonnie made eye contact with Stefan. As suspected he was brooding, which meant he was thinking about something and that something had to do with her drinking Damon's blood.

"I already know what you're going to say and here's my response. Stay out of my business," tacking on a stiff smile that looked eerily close to Damon's chilling smirk, Bonnie resumed her task.

Matt approached and sat on the opposite side of the table. "Hey, Bon need some help?"

Bonnie's smile towards her childhood friend was much more welcoming, "Sure."

Not needing anymore proof that he _really_ wasn't wanted around, Stefan went over to Elena who was stretched out on a chaise enjoying the afternoon sun.

That was definitely different and totally unexpected, Damon thought. Someone giving his saintly brother the cold shoulder. Damon wanted to moonwalk around the backyard but that would have to wait since it was time to eat.

**Act II Scene 3**

For five hours he hadn't touched her since his impromptu ass grabbing and the peck she had given him for his effort. He hadn't done anything out in the open that would suggest they were more than frenemies at worst. Damon wasn't one for discretion, so exercising restraint was nearly killing him.

After a boring and tiresome day of barbequing, dodging Stefan's brooding forehead and accusatory glares, and Elena's yearning gazes it was a bit head scratching for Damon since he had never been on the receiving end of that kind of attention from the brunette version of Rapunzel. If things were to go back in time to say five months ago he would have cut cartwheels, but things were different now. Not to say Damon still wasn't the least bit tempted to push buttons and test boundaries to see how much he could get away with, he felt he had much more to lose than another chunk of his self-worth and respect.

Finally having a moment alone, Damon was relaxing as best he could in the library sipping Johnny Walker. As much as a social butterfly as he could be, Damon coveted his solitude. However, he wouldn't be objectionable to a certain green-eyed caramel skin witch joining him.

A jumble of voices and footsteps caught his attention and he growled lowly as the door to the library burst open and in spilled the Scooby-Doo gang, each of them carrying something which suggested they were about to hog the 72 inch television that was mounted over the fireplace and watch some ridiculous and pointless movie. He was prepared to get up and go hit the town since apparently everyone was staying in rather than taking in the night life Rome, New York had to offer; but it was the last person who entered that caused him to back out of that plan quickly.

Damon's eyes leisurely took a tour Bonnie's figure. All colors of the rainbow looked impeccable against her flawless skin but the dark vampire definitely had a weakness when it came to women who donned the color black. He noticed Bonnie had pulled her hair into a ponytail that rested on the crown of her head leaving that scrumptious neck of hers out in the open and for him to ogle. His eyes darkened and narrowed as they locked on to that bluish-purple abrasion compliments of his lips, teeth, and tongue. Something akin to possession washed over Damon and he cleared his throat and shook his head to get rid of it.

Retaking his seat on the leather couch, his pants suddenly felt tight as Bonnie proceeded to stretch out on the sofa, her head propped up on a pillow just inches from his thigh.

"You know I was trying to relax hence why I'm in here. Alone," Damon addressed the room, but his eyes were stuck on Bonnie.

Caroline ignored him as she spread out a blanket on the floor, "Well since Bonnie didn't want to go out we all decided to watch movies until our eyes bleed. Feel free to leave if that's what you want. No one's twisting your arm to stay."

Someone might not be twisting his arm but his libido was about to be in ribbons if he didn't extract his eyes from Bonnie's cleavage that was practically spilling out of her tank top.

"It's so rare for all of us to be in the same place at the same time where we're not running for our lives," Elena tacked on and tried not frown at how close Bonnie was to Damon on the couch. "Movie night should be fun," her voice trailed off.

Damon grumbled under his breath and finished the rest of his drink. He wanted a refill but feared if he got up that his spot might be taken by that stupid boy with the muddy brown eyes.

"What are we watching first? Matt asked and plopped down in an overstuffed chair.

"I thought we could start off with Van Heilsing," Caroline answered and slipped the DVD into the flat screen and turned up the volume.

"A vampire movie," Stefan deadpanned and dropped his weight in the other overstuffed chair. "How original."

Caroline playfully stuck her tongue out at him.

"Hugh Jackman…he's hot," Bonnie informed the group.

"Please don't say something retarded like he can slay your heart anytime," Jeremy groaned and made a face like he was going to vomit. Bonnie flipped him off and but then added a smile so not to crush what was left of his little feelings.

Damon rolled his eyes and wondered where did he go wrong in life to be here. Popcorn was passed around as well as other hypertension filled processed snacks and carbonated drinks diluted with alcohol of course.

Half an hour into the flick Damon had to admit the action was slightly entertaining, but the acting was horrible, the graphics sucked, the overall plot of the story was whack, but he didn't mind it so much when the camera focused on Kate Beckinsale's "assests". Watching her kick ass made the movie slightly more bearable to watch.

Damon glanced down at Bonnie periodically while she ate popcorn. Was it possible to be turned on just by watching someone chew? And was it possible to be jealous of a piece of food because it had the fortune of being "intimate" with Bonnie's mouth?

To alleviate his own torture, Damon plucked the next piece of popcorn out of Bonnie's hand and tossed it in his own mouth. She craned her neck backwards to glare at him which gave Damon the opportunity to slip the pillow out from her head.

"You can use me instead," he offered and surprisingly kept his face impassive.

Thankfully it was dark inside the library, the only light streamed from the TV. Cautiously Bonnie placed her head on Damon's rock hard thigh, but he could feel the tension in her body. She didn't want to be this intimate with him at least not in front of those who would highly object to their newfound fondness for one another. But that was what made this even better. The danger and high probability of being caught.

To get her a little hot and bothered, Damon placed his hand on her belly and slowly began to rub. A soft sigh escaped between her lips and Bonnie snuggled closer and positioned herself that would allow Damon's fingers easy access to whatever he wanted to touch.

An inundation of fire burned though her veins igniting a path that started from her core, raced to her head, before trickling down and heading to the apex of her thighs heating her body to uncomfortable levels. Bonnie's breath hitched every single time Damon swept his fingers dangerously close to the underside of her breast until finally those maurdering digits brushed against her heaving mound stimulating the nerve endings of her nipples. They were hard instantly. Ever so slowly he eased his hand up, and boldly squeezed her entire breast, kneading the fatty tissue making her arch into his touch so he could grope more of her flesh. He grinned devilishly wishing he could slip his hand inside her shirt and really fondle her but this would have to do for now.

Damon had to swallow his groan when he felt her nipple harden and tickle his hand. He traced it with his index finger, his mouth practically watering it wanted to taste that dark chocolate pearl so badly he almost couldn't see straight.

Blood coalesced in the head of his dick and he felt violently engorged which was preposterous considering he was _only _touching Bonnie and not plunging his length in and out of her.

Despite the darkness of the room their eyes became magnets raising the stakes between them. Need slammed into Damon, ricocheted and then crashed into Bonnie, and the only way she knew how to deal with the collision was to cross her legs to squash the thumping beat of her feminine core.

He could smell her arousal which turned his blue eyes slumberous, and Damon's hand that had been fondling her breast began to descend to her hip before heading towards her legs to pry them apart so he could get to her creamy middle.

"That movie was bullshit," Jeremy's voice snapped Damon and Bonnie out of their lustful haze.

The others mumbled their agreement and began to stretch their muscles while Caroline got up to put in the next movie.

Taking that as her cue to leave, Bonnie got up dragging Damon's hand off her leg much to his chagrin. She stretched in a poor attempt to release the sexual tension that pummeled her body. Her legs were wet noodles, her face was scarlet red. Her leaf green gaze lingered on Damon who shamelessly sat before her with a very noticeable tent in his jeans. Damon spread his knees apart so Bonnie could see what touching her had done to him. She blushed profusely, and averted her eyes.

"I'm tired so I'm going to head to bed, you guys."

Compelling arguments that she should stay up for at least one more movie nearly made Bonnie weaken her resolve, but she made the mistake of looking into Damon's eyes and reading the intent within. He wanted to get her alone and preferably naked, but more so alone.

"No, I should definitely get to bed. It's been a long day. But I'll make it up tomorrow. We can tour the city, and go out to a bar or something," Bonnie promised and then slowly inched her way to the door.

"Yeah, I'm going to call it a night, too," Damon said and left the library following after Bonnie with several eyes burning a hole in the back of his head.

Silently they headed upstairs and the minute they stood behind the closed door of her bedroom, Bonnie's eyes were sparkling, and she was grinning. Leaning up on her toes, she clutched the collar of Damon's shirt and pulled him down.

Their lips met with mutual need and hunger and though they tried to be very, very quiet there was no mistaking the sound of two pairs of lips smacking and fighting for dominance. Since this morning Damon had wanted to pounce on Bonnie and kiss her cross-eyed, and the need to do so became even more demanding when she showed off his love bite to anyone who cared to see. Like an animal in the wild he had marked her, but he couldn't exactly claim her. Not yet at the very least.

He swallowed each and every single moan or mewl he coaxed out of her with his tongue as it rolled around hers. His teeth nipped her lips. Her fingers tunneled and pulled at the hair on the nape of his neck. They were so physically close together he felt every single hill and line of her body.

Temptation spiked through Bonnie as a tidal wave of heat, lust, and longing smashed into her. Damon was an open book and she was picking up on _everything_ that was fueling him. It was now fueling her and she wanted more than just this. More than kissing. More than him petting her. She didn't know what might happen at midnight, but Bonnie was determined she wouldn't let rationality or common sense stop her.

Damon jumped on the far side of the room and pulled back the covers to Bonnie's bed leaving a bewildered and confused looking witch standing alone. Not a second later, Caroline poked her head through the crack in the door she made. Suspiciously her eyes narrowed on them both taking in Damon's slightly disheveled appearance and the glassy look in Bonnie's eyes. Oh, and she couldn't help but see their lips were abnormally puffy.

Un-hun.

"Oh, he's turning down the sheets for you. How nice," Caroline's tone sounded anything but sweet.

"Since my house has been turned into a temporary hotel I figured why the hell not. I'm about to go tuck Elena in right now."

Bonnie's spine stiffened and she graced Damon with an icy glare he willfully ignored. Hey, he only said what he said to Blondie to throw her off their scent. He wasn't _really _going to tuck Elena in.

"If you're going to have a pillow fight that turns into a hot oil fight, please let me know so I can get the popcorn ready," Damon winked and then vanished from the room.

Now that it was just the two of them Caroline could finally put some of her suspicions to rest. Bonnie avoided making any kind of eye contact as she dug around in her dresser for her pajamas.

"What's going on between you and Damon?" Caroline demanded.

Unflappable façade in place, Bonnie looked at her friend and firmly said, "Nothing."

The gossipmonger in Caroline didn't believe that for one red hot second but decided to try another tactic.

"Are you finally ready to tell me who gave you that hickey?" the blonde's eyes widened the second Bonnie pulled off her shirt to reveal there were several more silver dollar size bruises peppered along her torso. "Hickeys?" she corrected.

"You don't know who he is," Bonnie deflected. It wasn't an all out lie. Caroline didn't really_ know_ Damon. She knew him in a sense, but she didn't know him know him, if you caught her meaning.

Not swallowing that half-truth with relish, Caroline, too began to disrobe. "Okay, so tell me something about him so that I can get to know him. Will I ever get the chance to meet him?"

Bonnie shrugged. "Maybe. If you behave yourself," she smiled. "He's…he's not the most sensitive person on the planet. I think feelings scare him, but he's been there for me especially when I didn't want him to be. And he can be very sweet even when he's not aware he's being sweet."

"Is he hot?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Yes."

"Has Damon met him?" Caroline specifically asked that question to trap Bonnie. The person Bonnie just described sounded awfully like Damon maybe except for the sweet part. However, Caroline was still holding out hope it _wasn't _Damon though she couldn't deny what her eyes had just seen moments before.

"Yeah, Damon met him. Whether he likes him or not, you'd have to ask him."

"That won't be necessary. Does…does he know about…"

Bonnie held up a hand but then nodded her head. "And don't worry. He's not taking advantage of me because of this tumor. He knows a thing or two about dying."

Grabbing her toiletry items, Caroline muttered, "I just bet he does. Bon…I know we've been prohibited from talking about the Big T and all, and I know you can take care of yourself I just want you to be careful. I think its awesome you've found someone you'd want to decorate you with hickeys, but make sure he's in an _emotional _position to give you the support you need. There's nothing worse than being someone's rebound, stand-in, filler, or jump off especially if _you_ want more. Don't limit yourself, and_ never_ settle for less than what you deserve. And I don't care how hot he is."

If there was nothing else Bonnie couldn't count on, she could count on Caroline giving her the advice and pep talk she needed. "I'm not, Caroline. I know what I'm doing and getting myself into. I think," Bonnie snorted self-deprecatingly.

"Just remember this," Caroline walked around the bed and stood in front of her friend. "If he breaks your heart I collect his dick. And I'll be sure to use a dull blade or maybe even a plastic knife. That should be fun," Caroline remarked gleefully and headed for the shower.

Bonnie eyed her bemusedly. "I'll be sure to pass that oh so helpful information along."

**Act II Scene 4**

It was 1:05 a.m. by the time Bonnie manned up the courage to slip out of bed and make her way to Damon's bedroom. Not bothering to knock, she turned the doorknob and entered. He was seated against the massive headboard of his bed, reading, shirtless, and looking completely unaffected by time or life. It was the most relaxed Bonnie had ever recalled seeing him so she just stood still for a second to soak it all in, brand this to memory.

Damon didn't move a single muscle a part from the one needed to turn the page in his book. It was taking almost all of his willpower to remain planted where he was as Bonnie stripped him bare with her eyes. What happened in the library and then in her bedroom was still fresh on his mind, and his body tightened, but he had to forget about his lust because he needed to have a serious talk with Bonnie. A talk that may potentially blow up in his face. The thought along made him wince internally because he hated being an adult most of the time, and being the voice of reason.

Tossing the book aside, he looked at Bonnie who stood in front of the door observing him with eyes that he used to find so much judgment locked inside for someone who was only seventeen years old at the time.

"You're late," he chastised and patted the spot next to him.

Bonnie crossed over the room, climbed up on his bed, and then sunk down beside him. "I was afraid of waking up Caroline, but she slept like the dead before becoming the dead," Bonnie snorted ruefully. "Glad that hadn't changed. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"At first I wanted you to come so I could at _least _get to third base, but that's going to have to wait," Damon grabbed Bonnie by the legs and dragged her until she faced him. "We need to talk about you constantly drinking my blood."

"Okay," goose bumps erupted over Bonnie's skin. From the firm set of Damon's jaw she knew whatever it was he was about to tell her wouldn't be anything she would want to hear.

"We know it's been proven that if a human dies with vampire blood in them, and then they drink human blood upon regaining consciousness volia you have a vampire. Well…a human who constantly feeds from a vampire over a span of weeks, maybe even months can slowly start to become a vampire as well." Damon paused so that information could sink into Bonnie's head. "There's more than one way to transition."

Bonnie's eyes widened and she slid away from Damon. Her heart began to pound in her chest and instantly she tried to count the number of times Damon had given her blood since living together plus the one time he gave her blood after Alaric nearly drained her, coupled with Stefan saving her with his blood. In her head, Bonnie added everything together and she had ingested vampire blood nearly ten times.

"Am I…am I becoming…a v-vampire?" Bonnie was flabbergasted.

"Honestly I don't know. Your reflexes are sharper; your looks have changed. This could all be due to the fact you had my blood less than forty-eight hours ago. But if I keep trying to extend your life by giving you my blood you run a higher risk of becoming like me. And I know that's the last thing you want, Bonnie."

Gobsmacked was the best way to describe what Bonnie was feeling after hearing that startling bit of news. Though she had worked past her issues with certain vampires, that didn't mean she approved of their chosen lifestyle or diet. And that certainly didn't mean she wanted to become one! She felt sick and overheated with what Damon just shared with her. Had he known about this the whole time?

Bonnie looked down at her hands, her arms, her legs, feet, her hair. She still looked the same to her, but she was obviously different to those around her. Then suddenly it all made sense. Stefan's probing looks and his little test this afternoon.

"That's why Stefan wanted to talk to me. He's afraid I'm transitioning."

Mutely, Damon nodded, but then pulled Bonnie closer and cupped her cheeks forcing her to make eye contact. "We're going to find a cure or something for you, Bonnie. All right?"

"But what if my condition gets worse before that happens?" Bonnie questioned hysterically. "I have maybe only weeks left…"

"Un-hun, nope we're not going there. When we," he waved his finger back and forth between them, "have a plan it always works, right? We win."

Bonnie nodded, tears lining her eyes.

"We're going to come up with a plan, and it's going to work. You're not dying and if you do I'll only bring you back just so I can kill you."

Laughing at that threat was inappropriate, but Bonnie made an attempt. Suddenly she felt very tired but also wired. Here she was more so worried about an attachment or bond forming between herself and Damon by her constantly drinking his blood, but she never stopped to think she could potentially become a vampire. The thought chilled her all the way to her soul, yet made Bonnie determined to find a way to beat this tumor.

On her own.

Damon meant well, but this was her issue. And he had done enough.

Already Damon could sense Bonnie pulling away, hiding within herself, shutting everything out. He kissed her until her lips became pliant under his, slid them both down to lie supine on the bed. He couldn't save Emily, Rose, Alaric, Elena, Jenna, or Stefan from his demons, but he was _going _to save Bonnie. No matter what he had to do. He would save her.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Just to reiterate, I'm using LJ's version of how a human can become a vampire through frequent blood exchange along with the show's mythology. You know that saying, there's more than one way to skin a cat (I don't advocate that of course), so in this story there's more than one way to become vampire so no arguments about "will in the show blah, blah, blah". **

**So you have Bamon sneaking around, Stefan, Caroline, and Elena being suspicious, and Jeremy inserting his machismo only to be smacked down. If anyone cares (which I'm sure you don't just humor me) why there was zero Delena interaction, or even Belena interaction, I'll be getting to those pairings shortly. It's a necessary evil I'm going to have to deal with, but it would have been too much to pack into the chapter when my only objective was just to show the gang's first day of their reunion. I want Bonnie to have moments with all of her friends, and keep the pace going as well. So now that Bonnie has it in her mind to save her own life, just what exactly will she do? And I know I mentioned Klaus in earlier chapters as being a possible solution for Bonnie, but I've decided to leave him out of it because I've come up with another plan, a _better _plan, and hopefully you guys will enjoy reading about it once the time comes. Thank you guys so much for reading! Until next time, love you!**


End file.
